


Curse of the Mayfly

by MiladyDragon



Series: Dragon-Verse: Series Two [16]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alien Experimentation, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, F/M, Human Experimentation, Language, M/M, Mild Gore, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-15 01:51:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 33,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8037520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiladyDragon/pseuds/MiladyDragon
Summary: Martha Jones and Tom Milligan come to Cardiff to help the team in their investigation into several random deaths that look like suicide but are actually murders.  What is the Pharm, and what does it have to do with the victims?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the next story in Series Two, based on the episode "Reset".

 

**_1 October 2008_ **

****

Martha Jones was glad to be in Cardiff, even if it was on UNIT business.

Ever since the dust up Geneva, she’d been rethinking her choice in going to work for UNIT.  Martha had thought that, once it had gotten around that she’d helped stop a near-alien invasion from another universe that was using the Large Hadron Collider as a conduit, some of her detractors would be silenced.  She knew all too well that there were certain people who were jealous of what she’d heard called her “meteoric” rise through the UNIT ranks, and it was very hard to ignore the bitter gossip bantered around about her. 

However, the acrimonious comments had gotten worse.

It really wasn’t Colonel Mace’s fault, even though he kept giving her more and more responsibility.  He had faith in her ability to do her job, and wasn’t afraid to promote her.  And she did deserve it, Martha knew, even though she’d often wished that the colonel would back off a bit and give her a chance to breathe.  Or at least give others she was by-passing through the ranks a chance to get used to her being their superior when those self-same people had been in UNIT a lot longer than she’d been.

It didn’t help that she couldn’t actually talk to anyone about just why she was getting the better and better jobs.  There were very few people who had the security clearance to know about the Doctor, let alone that Year she’d walked the world with her Dragon, trying to save it before the paradox destroyed it all.  Of course Colonel Mace knew, and treated her accordingly, but there were far too few who were actually privy to that knowledge.  To them, Martha knew what it looked like: like some bizarre sort of nepotism; at the worst, the rumours were pretty rife with her sleeping her way up the pecking order.

Really, it was Tom who saved her, each day she came home to their flat, after a bad day of putting up with the whispered comments that she wasn’t supposed to hear, and the passive-aggressive reactions to her orders.  He was the best thing to have happened to her, and she was pitifully grateful to have met him.  He was one of the best things to have come out of that Year, and she was so glad he remembered and understood what she – and everyone else in her life – had gone through.

So, when the colonel had suggested she go and work with Torchwood for a while, Martha had jumped at the chance.

Of course, she knew why Jack had never asked her to come to work for him.  Martha had needed to be near her family, to help them cope with what they’d been put through by the Master.  UNIT had been very generous with their psychological services, and even her mother had accepted the offer of mental help.  Martha had gone along with it, but there was this tiny bit of her that wished she’d approached Jack and had demanded a job; not that she wouldn’t have had to have been all that forceful about it.  And, if for some reason Jack had turned her down, she could have gone to Ianto.  Martha should have counted on him to get her a toe in the door, so to speak. 

But no, she hadn’t.  She’d stayed in London, with her family, and had taken Colonel Mace up on a job with his branch of UNIT.  And, honestly, she did love the work.  Just dealing with the unknown every day, it was wonderful and scary and she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

There were times when Martha just wished she was doing this with Torchwood instead.

The crowd at the train station was almost stifling, especially for middle of the week, but Martha didn’t mind.  Tom kept a firm grip on her hand, holding her near, and she was grateful he’d been able to get off work in order to come with her.  It was just as much a relief to him as it was to her: Tom had been great friends with Owen, and they had been partners during that Year.  Tom was, in fact, one of the very few “civilians” outside of the residents of Ddraig Llyn who even remembered it, and had a comparable security clearance to cover that knowledge.  Colonel Mace hadn’t been happy about it until Tom had signed the Official Secrets Act, and then he’d tried to get Tom to come to work at UNIT.  Tom had, of course, declined the offer, instead making his mark as a trauma specialist at the Royal London, even doing some teaching.

It made her wonder how Colonel Mace felt about an entire Welsh village remembering it, and huffed a small laugh at that.  Being well aware of the Colonel’s need for control, it was probably galling.  Plus, he just had to dislike the idea of leaving it to Torchwood, despite the current cordiality between the two agencies.

“Did Ianto say he was going to have someone meet us?” Tom asked, his lips right next to her ear in order to be heard.

Martha shivered a little at the sensation of his breath on her earlobe.  God, what the man could do to her… “He did,” she answered, pushing past a businessman who’d decided that stopping and checking his phone in the middle of foot traffic was a really good idea.  “I’m just not sure who it’s going to be.”

“Then let’s head out front and see where they are.”

Martha tightened the grip on her equipment case and allowed herself to be tugged along by her boyfriend toward the exit.  He made an excellent crowd parter, the duffle over his shoulder bumping into their clasped hands as he used the suitcase in his other hand as a form of wedge in order to get through the throng that was also heading toward the front of the terminal.  At least they were moving in the direction of traffic, which made it not quite as bad as it could have been.

The moment they hit the outdoors, Martha took a deep breath of the chill Cardiff air, glad to be out of the press of people inside.  She shivered slightly, even with her leather jacket on, and moved to stand beside Tom, her eyes searching for someone she might recognise.

Well, she didn’t know the person, but she certainly did the SUV that was double-parked in what was obviously an illegal place, even though this was the first time she’d seen it.  Martha knew though that this had to have been Deborah, from the blonde hair tied back in a neat ponytail and the dark blue pants suit she wore.  The young woman was smiling, her happiness obvious.  “Doctor Jones,” she greeted warmly, “and Dr Milligan!  Welcome to Cardiff.”

Martha returned the smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Deborah.”  She’d heard all about her from Ianto; how she’d come through the Rift from 1953, one of the passengers from the _Sky Gypsy_ along with Owen’s current long-distance lover, Diane.

“And you as well.  I’ve heard so much about the two of you.” 

Tom laughed at that. “If it was Owen doing the telling, it’s all lies.”

Deborah snorted.  “I’ve worked with Owen long enough to know _that’s_ certainly true.” 

“You do know Owen then!”

The look on the young woman’s face was a combination of fondness and exasperation.  “Unfortunately,” she quipped.  Turning toward the illegally parked SUV, she called over her shoulder, “Let’s get your luggage in the boot and then you can decide if you want to go straight to the Hub or to Ianto’s house.”

“I thought we’d be staying at a hotel,” Martha protested as she and Tom followed.  The last thing she’d wanted to do was impose on anyone, although she should have guessed Ianto would insist.

“Ianto wouldn’t have it,” Deborah said, opening the SUV’s boot with her keyfob. Tom proceeded to pack everything inside, finding room around the boxes and cases of equipment that took up most of the space.  “You’re a dragon-friend, and that’s enough for him to keep you and Tom nearby.”

That made sense to her, because Martha was well aware of how Ianto felt about people he considered family.  “Let’s go to the Hub first,” she said, as Tom closed up the boot.  “I want to talk to the team and get started.”

“Sounds good.”  Deborah gave a quick little grin and then headed toward the driver’s side. Tom let Martha take the front passenger seat, while he sat behind her.  Deborah put on her seat belt and shifted the vehicle into gear, forcing her way into traffic by dint of the SUV being larger than most of the other cars trying to get out.

Martha had never been in Cardiff.  The last time she’d seen it had been on grainy camera footage taken during that Year, and it had been mostly destroyed by the Rift storm that had been caused by the creation of the paradox that had time-locked the planet.  So she wasn’t ashamed to play the tourist and watch the city go by as Deborah drove them toward the Hub.  Deborah was happy to point out various sights to her as they passed them, and Martha hoped she and Tom would get a chance to go sightseeing while they were in town.

Business had to come first, though.

Still, it would be so good to see the team again.  Yes, she’d just seen Ianto and Toshiko – and Patrick, but he’d had no idea that they’d met previously – about a month ago, but she’d still missed them.  She hadn’t seen Owen since they’d parted company at Ddraig Llyn, and she had spoken to the medic on the phone several times but they hadn’t gotten together.  She knew Tom missed his friend, the partner he’d spent so much time with during the Year that Never Was, and he was excited to see the irascible doctor once again. 

It didn’t take them all that long to get to their destination.  Deborah pulled into a carpark at the Millennium Centre, driving down to the lowest level, where she parked the SUV next to a dark green classic Mustang that must have had Tom drooling, if Martha knew her boyfriend at all.

“That’s Toshiko’s car,” Deborah volunteered, obviously interpreting the look Tom was giving the Mustang.  “Jack gave it to her after having it restored.”

“Jack has awesome taste in cars,” Tom breathed in reverence. 

Deborah chuckled.  “I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear that.”

Trust Torchwood to have a hidden door in a carpark.

Deborah let them into the corridor beyond, leading them forward and deeper into the underground warren that was the Torchwood Hub.  Both Martha and Tom were seeing it for the first time, and they followed their guide through dank tunnels with corridors leading off it, going to who knew where.  Martha had to wonder if anyone really knew where they all went, and then had to mentally kick herself…if anyone knew, it would have been Ianto.  After all, a dragon had to feel right at home in a place like this.  It had to have been much like living in a cave.

That made her wonder just what Ianto’s cave at Ddraig Llyn had been like; she’d missed seeing it when she’d been there.

Deborah led the pair up a short flight of stairs, and into what had been the Hub proper.  Martha’s jaw dropped as she took it all in: the place was enormous, going up what had to have been several stories, with rooms and catwalks interspaced all along the height and breadth of the area.  What had to have been the base of the fountain that was visible up on the Plass took up residence near the centre of the immense room, the sides off to reveal what Martha believed to be the actual Rift Manipulator, the device that kept the Cardiff Rift in some semblance of control.

“Suddenly, on a dreary day in Cardiff, I hear the dulcet tones of a Nightingale!”

Martha had to laugh at Jack’s pronouncement.  It sounded very much like how Ianto had greeted her in Geneva. “And to think I haven’t even said anything yet.”

The entire team was present.  Jack and Ianto stood together next to an open office, which Martha assumed belonged to the captain.  Toshiko was at a workstation that had all sorts of monitors hanging from it, and Owen was on the top step leading down to another room that seemed to be lined with white ceramic tile, and if she had to guess she would have said it was some sort of medical area.

Patrick was also sat at a desk, this one covered with all sorts of devices that, knowing what she did about him, had to have been bits and bobs from different types of weapons.  The last man, who just had to be Rhys Williams, had his own desk and his own computer, and he’d obviously been working on it when they’d entered.

Ianto was grinning, and he stepped forwarding, enveloping Martha in a hug.  She clutched at him just as tightly, letting his body heat and the scent that she’d grown so familiar with settle back into her soul.  “I’ve missed you, Dragon,” she whispered, knowing he’d hear it.

His hug tightened briefly in reply.  “Missed you too, Nightingale.”

Ianto had become like a brother to her, since their journey to walk the Earth had begun during the Paradox Year.  In fact, she was so much closer to him than she was to her own brother, Leo, and being away from him had been like losing a part of herself for a while.

“Hey,” Jack’s voice cut in, “don’t keep her all to yourself.”

Ianto huffed a laugh, letting Martha go.  “I’d better share, or else he’ll just get all stroppy.”

Martha rolled her eyes, then stepped over so Jack could hug her too.  His was a different scent from Ianto’s, and she inhaled deeply.  Jack was also like family to her, although for a different reason; while she’d met him first, during that horrific trip to the end of time, and she’d become close to him in such a short time, it was Jack she was grateful to for protecting her family by drawing the attention of the Master to himself, in order to keep her blood family safe.  She’d heard all sorts of stories about Jack from Ianto, and had been able to tell just how much the dragon loved his mate.  She’d come to love him as well, just by the power of Ianto’s words.

She could hear Owen greeting Tom, her boyfriend laughing at something the doctor said.  Martha pulled back out of the embrace, smirking up at Jack playfully.  “It’s so good to see you, Jack.”

“Of course it is!” he exclaimed, his own smirk a match for hers. “I know you came all this way just to see me, after all.”

“Still struggling to conquer your shyness, I see.”

“It’s a difficult process,” Ianto said, sounding put upon, “but we’re working on it.”

Martha chortled; she couldn’t help herself.  These two were her best friends. 

She nestled between them, linking her arms through theirs.  The rest of the Torchwood team surrounded them, Tom looking on almost benevolently, his own arm draped over Owen’s shoulders.  “It’s good to see you all,” she said expansively, her heart swelling at being surrounded by her surrogate family once more. 

Then she glanced at the one stranger among them.  “And you’re Rhys,” she greeted the man.  He looked a friendly sort, slightly stocky and resembling nothing more than one of those football fans she’d seen in pubs, wearing an actual jersey for a local team with well-worn jeans. 

“That I am,” he answered, his own grin somewhat sly.  “And you’re this Martha I keep hearing about.  It’s good to finally know you’re a real person and not a figment of this lot’s imagination.”

Martha knew then that she was going to love Rhys just as much as she did everyone else.  She’d already decided that she liked Deborah, but there had been something about the young time-displaced woman that made that easy.

“I don’t think they have that great of an imagination,” she answered lightly. 

Rhys snorted at that, while the others all managed to roll their eyes in unison; although, of them all, Ianto was the best at it.

“You’re here about the weird deaths,” Owen stated, cutting to the heart of her visit.

Martha nodded.  “UNIT’s been investigating a rash of them throughout Great Britain, but the majority of them seem to be clustered in South Wales.”

The deaths had come to UNIT’s attention a little over a month ago.  Colonel Mace had originally assigned another member of the medical staff to them; however, when it had come to his attention that Torchwood had also found a couple of the bodies, he’d been more than willing to transfer the case to Martha and to send her to liaise with the team there in Cardiff. 

“We found the first one about three weeks ago,” Owen said.  Something flickered in his eyes, but was gone quickly, leaving Martha confused as whether she’d seen it at all.  “Then, last night Tosh and I were on a Weevil hunt and came across another body.  I was just getting started on the tests…”

“Then let’s see if we can find out if he fits into our rash of deaths,” Martha concluded, glad to be working with Owen…with the team. 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

**_1 October 2008_ **

 

Owen leaned over the body lying on his autopsy table, as Martha got her kit together on one of the stainless steel tables in the medical bay.

He’d never worked with her before, but he knew enough about her to already respect her intelligence and ability.  Sure, he’d been unsure of her when Tom had called him not long after they’d all settled back into their routines to tell him he’d looked her up, but from everything his friend had told him – and from what he’d heard from Ianto and Jack – had him pretty much convinced that they would be good together. 

Of course, that wasn’t going to stop him from giving her a good, old-fashioned, shovel talk, but that could wait for the time being.

“I identified a pattern from UNIT’s information on the sudden deaths,” she was saying as she slipped on her white lab coat and turning to join Owen at the table.  She glanced up, looking at the team that had gathered around the rail, listening in.  He was used to the hovering, and she seemed to shrug off the attention. “Toxic shock.  Nothing to link the victims.  Different ages, sexes, ethnic origins, occupations.”

“So what about the pattern?” Owen asked, intrigued.  He’d really just noticed something going on, just from the types of death; he’d only ever gotten his hands on two of the victims himself, and one of those just before he and the team had lost a couple of days’ worth of their memories.  He still wasn’t all that happy about not checking into it, but at the same time he trusted Tosh and her demand that they give up the hunt.  All he knew was that Martha had figured something out, and was willing to listen to her.

“They were all written off as suicides or accidents,” she went on, leaning over the corpse and peeling back an eyelid.  She made a noise that sounded of confirmation and motioned him forward. “See here?”

Owen looked as she bid.  There, on the sclera of the eye, was a small bruised place.  “A puncture wound…” He silently cursed himself for not seeing it on the first body that had ended up in Torchwood’s custody, but then they’d all been disturbed by what had happened to them so he felt he could let himself off the hook.

“Hypodermic needle,” she confirmed.  “You’ll find the body’s been pumped full of ammonium hydroxide.”  She released the pressure on the eyelid, leaning back.  “Have you done any blood tests yet?”

“Hadn’t had a chance yet, darlin’,” he answered gruffly.  “I put the body on ice the moment you called and said you were coming.”

Martha gave him a grateful smile.  “We should probably check his medical records too.”

“I’ll get on that,” Toshiko said from the upper gallery.  “I’ll also let Kathy know what to look for in case there are any more deaths.”

Jack handed her a small plastic bag, which Owen knew held their victim’s identification.  She quickly left the room, her heels clicking on the cold tiles.

“Honestly,” Martha went on, “if things go the way I think they will, she’ll be lucky to find anything.”

“What do you mean?” Patrick asked, looking relaxed, but Owen could tell just how closely he was paying attention.

“The NHS claimed there was a crash of their systems, erasing a shedload of patient files,” Martha explained.  “It just so happens the medical records for every one of the victims were erased as well.”

Judging from the noise that could be heard from the main Hub, Owen figured out that Toshiko had just discovered what Martha was talking about.

Toshiko rejoined them at the railing, looking nonplussed.  “A crash wouldn’t wipe records so completely,” she snarled.  “I’m going to look into it and see what I can find.”  She made her way out once more, shaking her head and muttering something about “data back-ups” and “file dumps”.  She was obviously unhappy.

And Owen knew from experience that an unhappy Tosh was a determined Tosh.

“In the meantime,” he said, “I’ll draw blood and confirm that he’s got ammonium hydroxide in his system.”  He glanced up at Ianto.  “Dragon Boy, you wanna bring up the body from that first victim we think is linked?  We need more tests on him too.”

The dragon nodded.  “I’ll get on that right away.”  He spun on his heel and left, Owen knowing he would be heading down to the vaults.

“You kept the last body?” Tom enquired, sounding surprised.

“Yeah,” Owen answered. “Any mysterious death we inter the corpse here in the Hub.  There’s no telling what might’ve been left behind…alien toxin, or some sort of germs or shit like that.”  He hadn’t really done much more than a cursory exam, and he was kicking himself for it.  He should’ve done more, even if he’d still been feeling out of sorts over his missing memories. 

Truth be told – if only to himself – was that Retcon reminded him of Katie, and how her memory had deteriorated so much before her death.  Sure, he understood the need, humans just weren’t ready for the fact that aliens lived among them and even tried to conquer the planet on a regular basis.  Yeah, in Cardiff there was a high level of pragmatism about the unusual, but some things just shouldn’t be remembered. 

Still when faced with it himself…it brought back all the shit that he’d gone through with Katie’s worsening condition.  The only person he’d ever mentioned it to was Diane, and that had been during one late-night chat session online, and he’d been drunk at the time.  In fact, that had been the first time he’d gotten that bad since meeting his lady love, and in the morning he’d been incredibly embarrassed at his overly melodramatic behaviour.  Diane had simply laughed at his apology, saying that he must have needed it if he’d gotten pissed with her on the other end of the connection.

God, he loved that woman.  He really needed to convince her to come back to Cardiff, where she belonged…with him.

“You okay?” Martha’s quiet voice broke into his thoughts.

Owen actually shook himself out of his funk.  “Yeah.  Let’s get started on this poor sod, then we can work on the first so-called victim.”

She nodded in response, and Owen was grateful she was going to let it lie.

 

***********

 

To his surprise, Owen and Martha worked very well together.

At some point in the proceedings they lost Tom, but Owen knew his friend was more into live patients, being a very successful trauma surgeon.  He didn’t do much of the sheer lab work that he and Martha were involved in, and he’d gotten out of their way easily enough. 

Music was playing in the background as he and Martha handled the blood work on their two victims.  The first one had also shown the single hypodermic puncture to the eye, and his system was proving to have been jacked full of ammonium hydroxide as well.  It made Owen mad that he’d missed something like that, and while he knew he’d been seriously distracted he should have seen this. 

How many people had been killed because he hadn’t been paying attention?  He cursed inwardly even as he prepared slides with samples of blood and tissue, hoping to find something that wasn’t masked by the chemical that had been injected into their two bodies.  He inserted the slides into the scanning microscope as Martha worked the mass spectrometer, hoping to find something to give them a clue to stop the bastard who was killing these poor bastards.

“These killings,” Martha mused, “why the ammonium hydroxide?  It’s a weird way to kill someone. Affective, yeah…but weird.”

“Yeah,” Owen agreed, putting the scan up on the large screen in the lab.  “It’s seriously gross, like injecting someone with bleach.” 

It didn’t make any sense that Owen could see, and it irritated him to no end.  There had to be an answer...he stared at the screen, frowning at the results.  It wasn’t telling him a fucking thing.

Martha joined him.  “Wait…”

He glanced over at her, and her brows were drawn together.  Owen could practically see the gears turning in her head.  “What?” he prompted, hoping she’d seen something he’d missed.  While he normally hated to be shown up, there was something about Martha that caused him not to mind all that much.  Maybe Tom talking her up to him had affected his reasoning…

Then her face cleared, and she turned toward Owen.  “What if the objective here wasn’t just killing?”

It was as if a lightbulb had gone off over Owen’s head.  “What if they were destroying something in the victims’ blood stream?”

They both grinned at the same time. 

“They were hiding evidence!” Martha exclaimed. 

Owen knew, without a doubt, that her supposition was on the money.

Fuck, but she was good.

Maybe that shovel talk wouldn’t be so necessary after all.


	3. Chapter 3

 

**_1 October 2008_ **

 

“So,” Ianto said, taking his usual seat on the edge of Jack’s desk, “how are things in London?”

Tom sighed, slouching into the guest chair.  “Not too bad.  Everyone’s falling into a routine now, and Francine says the nightmares are getting a little bit less.”

“Give them our love,” Jack requested from his place at this desk.

“I will,” Tom promised.

Ianto was glad that the Joneses were gradually getting better.  Of them all, they’d really had the worst of things during that Year; certainly, seeing everything that he and Martha had had been horrific, but the Joneses had been at the mercy of the Master the entire time, and had even had to witness nearly everything the mad Time Lord had done, especially to Jack.  His mate had a bond with the family that rivalled the one the dragon had with Martha, and both of them had been practically adopted by Francine and Clive once time had been restored. 

“It’s been hard on Martha,” Tom went on, “but she wants to move out of the house and into her own place.” A side of his mouth crooked upward in an abortive smile.  “To be honest, Francine has been a bit overbearing lately, but neither of us can really blame her.  Martha’s been staying over at mine a lot in the last month or so.”

He blushed slightly when he said that last part, and Ianto thought it was adorable.  Tom really loved Martha, and she him, and the dragon was so glad that the young doctor had chosen to pursue Martha when everything was finished.

They made a good couple, and Ianto couldn’t have been happier for both of them.

“It might be about time,” Jack said. “I know Francine wants to keep Martha close, but she’s an adult and it has to be difficult living in the same house as her Mom and Dad.”

“Tish still wants to stay,” Tom added, “so it’s not like Francine is going to be losing both her daughters.  It’s just that Martha is really independent and Francine doesn’t seem to get that.”

“They also had different experiences,” Ianto replied. 

“True,” Tom conceded.  “Martha had only you to really depend on during that Year, so she feels a bit stifled by Francine’s attitude. And…” he sighed, “it doesn’t help that things at UNIT aren’t going all that well at the moment, and I’m about the only person she can really talk to about it.”

Ianto frowned.  Certainly, he’d known about what had happened in Geneva, where Martha’s superiors hadn’t believed her that something was going on with the Large Hadron Collider, but he would have thought it would have improved some after Martha had been proved correct.

“You would have thought so,” Tom said when Ianto voiced his concern, “but it just seemed to make some of it worse.  There are people who claim that Martha is actually sleeping her way through the ranks, and it really bothers her.”

Ianto couldn’t contain the growl that rose up in his chest.  Martha deserved everything she got, and had worked hard and persevered when things had gone south.  No one should be even implying that sort of thing about her, and the dragon wanted nothing more than to find out whoever was starting these rumours about his friend and making them regret ever opening their mouths.

“Maybe you and Martha ought to think about coming to Cardiff,” Jack said, sounding as angry as Ianto felt. 

Tom sighed.  “I won’t pretend that she hasn’t considered it. I know she also misses both of you more than she admits.  But I think a part of her is just stubborn enough to tough things out with UNIT until they either get too bad to deal with, or she wears down the naysayers until they have to give her the credit she deserves.”  He met Ianto’s gaze.  “You know how she is.”

Ianto did, indeed, know how Martha was.  It was that determination that had driven her to follow the Doctor’s plan – even though the dragon hadn’t been all that certain about it actually working – that had led her to help saving the entire planet.  Martha Jones was no one’s pushover, and he could see her staying in her position with UNIT just to spite the people who couldn’t see her true worth.     

“You both have a place here, whenever you want it,” Jack assured.  “We’d love to have you both as a part of the team. I know Owen misses having you around, Tom.”

Tom snorted.  “Yeah, I’m sure the cranky bastard will never admit to that.”  His fond expression belied his irritated tone.  He and Owen had really bonded while running missions for the Resistance; Ianto wouldn’t have hesitated in calling it brotherly.

“I wonder if Martha would consider getting me a UNIT cap,” Jack mused, grinning widely.  “For personal use only…Ianto would look fantastic in it.”

The dragon rolled his eyes, knowing what Jack was doing; lightening the atmosphere that had somehow gotten heavy during their conversation.  He decided to play along with it.  “Red _is_ my colour,” he commented. 

Tom waggled his finger at Jack.  “Get your own uniforms and keep my girlfriend out of your kinky sex games.”

“And what sort of kinky sex games are we talking about?” Martha asked, sticking her head around the office door and giving Jack a knowing look. Her eyes were dancing in laughter, even while her expression was stern. “Jack, you’re not trying to seduce my man, are you?”

Jack put his hand over his heart, managing to look both affronted and happy at the same time.  “You wound me, Nightingale,” he gasped, pretending to swoon.

“Not yet I haven’t,” she teased.

“Have you and Owen found anything?” Ianto asked, wanting to get them back on some form of track and to see if he could get Jack distracted enough to forget about the UNIT beret.  He was certain his mate had only mentioned it to make a joke, but he knew once Jack got something in his head that would even remotely translate into a sexual aid the best thing to do was make sure Jack lost that particular train of thought.

Not that he didn’t mind Jack’s suggestions; but there was just something about wearing an actual UNIT cap that didn’t really do it for him.

“That’s the problem,” Martha said, taking a step into the office, her hands in the pockets of her lab coat, “we haven’t found anything.  But we’re both sure we weren’t supposed to.”

Ianto frowned.  “What do you mean?”

“Let’s all go down to the lab,” Jack suggested.  “We can have the entire team in on this so neither one of you have to explain it twice.”

Martha nodded, and then turned to head back out of the office.  Tom was up and following her almost immediately; Ianto had to stifle a chuckle at the alacrity in which the young man was willing to go after his girlfriend. 

He and Jack accompanied them toward the lab.  Ianto was very curious about what Owen and Martha had – or hadn’t – found, but his curiosity was curtailed when his mobile rang.  He pulled it out of his pocket, checking the caller ID.

Smiling, Ianto answered it. “Detective Constable Davidson…what may Torchwood do for you today?”  He stopped, nodding at his mate to indicate he’d be following along shortly.

_“Mister Jones,”_ the DC’s friendly voice said, _“you wanted to be informed if there was another weird attack using some sort of hypodermic needle.”_

“I’m surprised something’s happened so fast,” he admitted.  If this fit the sketchy pattern they had so far, then whoever it was, was either escalating or getting sloppy.

_“Yeah, well this victim wasn’t killed.”_

Ianto couldn’t believe their luck; to have an actual eye witness.  “What can you tell me?”

_“Victim’s name is Marie Thomas, aged 27.  Claims someone tried to attack her with a hypodermic needle as she was on her way home from a friend’s house.  She managed to escape, but she’s in hospital at the moment.  I assume you want to talk to her?”_

“You would assume correctly.”

_“I’ll let the guard on the door know to let Torchwood in.”_

The constable gave Ianto the details, and the dragon thanked him before hanging up.  Ianto strode toward the lab, knowing they’d need to get someone down to interview Marie Thomas as soon as possible…

And something exploded off to his left.

The dragon ducked, shouting.  Nothing much could hurt him, but he was startled just the same.

Ianto glanced toward the damage done to the shelf just behind him, and then he straightened, glaring at Owen who was holding that damned singularity scalpel and aiming it in his general direction.  Ever since they’d found it dumped in a garden in Tremorfa after a Rift event, Owen had taken charge, assuming it was some sort of medical instrument.  Toshiko had tried to get him to let her work on it, but the medic had been stubborn. 

It was obvious he still hadn’t gotten it to work.

They must have gotten distracted from their trip to the lab, and Ianto wasn’t sure who to blame for it. Jack was standing behind Owen, his laughter barely stifled.  Martha was beside him, her hand covering her mouth, trying to hide her own mirth.  Tom was next to her, his own hand covering his eyes, his head shaking in disbelief.  Owen himself at least looked a bit embarrassed by the whole thing; he must have been attempting to show off, judging from the paper cup resting on the table where the scalpel was normally kept, the bare edge of a piece of paper jutting from the top.

At least Toshiko, Patrick, Rhys, and Deborah weren’t present to witness the dragon’s reaction.  They must not have made it down yet from the main Hub.

“Did the big, bad dragon just scream like a little girl?” Owen chortled.

Never in a million years would Ianto admit to that.  And, just to be sure, he’d make certain any and all video was going to be erased.

“I knew it was going to end in tears,” Jack chuckled. 

“I just don’t have the calibration set right yet,” Owen mumbled, his attention going back to the alien device, playing with the dial that was on one side of the scalpel.

“And, until you do, it’ll be instant decaf for you, Dr Harper.” The dragon had to put his foot down, and anything else Owen would most likely let roll off his back.

That put such a crestfallen expression on the medic’s face that Ianto almost backed down…almost. 

“Jack,” Ianto said, turning this back in the direction it needed to be, “that was DC Davidson on the phone.  He says there’s been another victim…only this one survived the attack and is in the hospital.”

“Owen…Martha, get down there and get what you need,” Jack ordered, becoming Torchwood’s Captain at once.  “This could be our chance to figure out what’s going on.”

“Yeah,” Owen said, putting the singularity scalpel down and putting his game face on, “maybe this time we’ll be able to see just what the killer’s been trying to hide.”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

**_1 October 2008_ **

 

Marie Thomas was attractive, with dark hair and eyes and who didn’t look at all like she was enjoying being poked and prodded.

Owen didn’t blame her.  He was a doctor, and he hated it more than just about anyone…including Jack, who was standing at the foot of the bed as Owen and Martha examined the latest victim of the Hypodermic Killer, as his inner crime novel lover insisted on calling him.

Not that Owen would ever admit that he loved those sorts of books. 

He’d gotten into them in a surprising way; during that Year, when he and Tom had been running supplies between different communities.  One of their contacts, another doctor that Owen had only known as Watson had handed him a rather battered copy of Richard Castle’s _Rising Storm,_ and Owen had been hooked ever since.  He hadn’t been able to collect books then, needing to travel light, but once the paradox had ended he’d managed to fill out the bookshelves in his flat with all sorts of books; from the actioners of Richard Castle to the cerebral works of Agatha Christie to the plottiness of Val McDermid. He even had a couple Kathy Reichs novels, but hadn’t had a chance to start those yet, as well as a few from a young readers’ series called The Three Investigators.  Jumble sales and library book sales were the best places to get the good deals, and he really didn’t care what he found.  He was willing to read anything.

Of course, reading also gave him something to do in his downtime.  Before he’d met Diane, he would have gone out on the pull, but that had changed.  Never had he ever even considered finding someone like her, not after he’d lost Katie, so every time she spoke with him it surprised him. 

As much as he wanted her back in Cardiff, though, Owen wasn’t about to be angry at her choice to move to Alaska.  He could be a selfish bastard, but not about that.

Martha was taking blood, and Marie didn’t want to sit still.  “The doctors said they were finished with me,” she whined.  She fidgeted on the hospital bed, uncomfortable in her thin hospital gown.  It was chilly in the room, so it might have just been that she was cold, but Owen doubted that.

“Yeah,” Owen answered, “but we’re a bit different.”

“Did you recognise the man that attacked you?” Martha asked, but before Marie could say anything she stuck a swab into her mouth and took a saliva sample.

Marie didn’t look at all impressed.  “I told the police everything,” she answered, making a face.

“We’re different from them, too,” Jack said, crossing his arms and looking down at her.  Owen wanted to tell him to kill the overbearing shit, but he was too busy taking Marie’s blood pressure to bother.

Marie sighed.  “I never saw him before.”

Owen already knew she wasn’t going to do them any good.  He could only hope that the scans and samples they were taking would be more use. 

“Look,” Marie went on, “he just came at me with a bloody big needle, didn’t he?  My dog bit him and I kicked him in the nuts.”

Jack laughed.  “Respect!”

Owen had to agree.  It was that lucky hit to the goolies that had obviously saved her life.  If she hadn’t fought back…well, Owen would be doing the autopsy and not trying to fight the woman to get a decent blood pressure reading on her. 

“If you remember anything,” Jack went on, “there’s a copper right outside the door, and he’ll know how to contact us.  Anything at all, Marie.  We need to catch this guy.”

Marie nodded.  “Yeah, I will.”

 

**********

 

With the newest samples, Owen and Martha got back to work once they were back to the Hub.  Already they were getting good results…just not what Owen had been expecting.

There didn’t seem to be a thing wrong with Marie Thomas.

Everything about her was perfect.  Perfect blood, perfect pressures…nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

It was beginning to piss him off.

He knew they had to be missing something.  There was a reason their killer had gone after her, and Owen didn’t think it was because he was jealous that Marie was in perfect health.  He knew that his and Martha’s earlier supposition had been correct; whoever was injecting these poor bastards with ammonium hydroxide, and there had to be something in Marie’s lab work to point them in the right direction.

It didn’t help that her medical records had been erased as well.  Owen hadn’t heard those sorts of swears from Toshiko in a very long time when she’d tried to find Marie in the NHS database.  Not that Owen blamed her; they were working without any real information, and Tosh prided herself on being able to find what they needed on their cases.  Toshiko Sato was the best, and Owen would fight anyone who said otherwise.  It had been her who’d kept so many alive during that Year, under the guise of the Resistance leader Cherry Blossom…hell, Owen knew damned well he owed her his own after that shit show in York.  If she hadn’t managed to get him and Tom out of there…well sure, he would have come back after the paradox was broken, but he wouldn’t have remembered meeting Tom, and he just couldn’t imagine that.  They’d become fast friends while running missions, and Owen really didn’t have that many friends that losing one – even if he wouldn’t have known – just wasn’t an option.  Not a lot of people were willing to put up with him.

“This just doesn’t make sense,” Martha complained, leaning up from her hunched over position at the lab table, her back audibly cracking as she stretched.

Owen couldn’t disagree.  He’d been hoping Marie’s tests would have shown something…

“No one is this healthy,” Martha went on.  “I mean, everything is where it should be…heart, blood pressure, cholesterol…I don’t know about you, but I’ve never seen anyone this healthy before.” Her frustration echoed Owen’s own.

“Owen…Martha,” Ianto stuck his head into the lab, “the constable on duty outside of Marie’s room just called, she’s collapsed.”

They looked at each other.  “Now, that shouldn’t have happened,” Martha said.

Owen was about to agree, when he caught sight of something on the screen.  “Now, that’s new.”

It resembled a normal DNA helix, but there was something off about it.  His fingers punched the keyboard of the workstation he was at, and the image increased in size.  He didn’t recognise it at all, and that wasn’t good.

Martha came to stand beside him, the frown on her pretty face must have been matching the one on his.  “Have you run an isoenzyme analysis on it?”

“What?  You think it might be some sort of parasitic infection?”  That actually made some form of sense.  If something had somehow infected all their victims…

“Could be.” Martha didn’t sound so sure.

“It’s got to be down to this.  Otherwise I don’t have a clue as to what’s wrong with her.”


	5. Chapter 5

 

**_1 October 2008_ **

 

Ianto drove the SUV through the trees, guided by the strobes of the police cars ahead on the path. 

He’d just let Martha and Owen know about Marie Thomas when Toshiko had reported that a body had been found in Heath Park, showing all the signs of being yet another victim.  The police had the area cordoned off, and they were to meet Andy Davidson there.  Anymore, he and Kathy were the ones out at crime scenes that looked as if it was “spooky” enough to fall under Torchwood’s jurisdiction; Kathy herself was in a meeting, according to Andy, so it would be just him waiting.

Andy was easily recognisable in his suit, amid all the brightly dressed coppers in charge of watching over the crime scene.  Ianto pulled the SUV to a halt next to the unmarked car that obviously belonged to the detective constable, and he got out of the vehicle, followed by Tom who Jack had requested the dragon take with him.  With Martha and Owen going to see Marie Johnson, Tom was the closest thing to a medical officer they had and he would be able to tell if this person was one of their victims or not.

“Detective Constable Davidson,” Ianto greeted the young man with a smile.

“Mister Jones,” Andy returned, looking askance at Tom.

“This is Doctor Milligan,” the dragon introduced.  “He’s here to help us out on this.”

That was all it took for Andy to accept Tom’s presence, and he motioned them forward, lifting the yellow caution tape that surrounded the scene of crime.  “Body was found this morning.  Caucasian male, in his early thirties.”

“Any idea who he is?” Ianto asked, letting the constable lead them toward a white tent that was set up several meters off the path, in order to protect the scene from the weather.

“Barry Leonard,” Andy answered, holding up a bagged ID.  “Student.  Medical examiner says it’s like what you asked us to look out for.”

“Thank you,” Ianto said, as he ducked underneath the tent’s low awning.

Lying in the mud was a man, blond, wearing a hoodie and jeans.  Ianto felt a pang of sorrow at someone so young having been killed, especially in such a heinous manner.  Anytime someone died was a tragedy in his opinion.

Barry Leonard’s blue eyes were slightly open, and Tom knelt beside the body, rolling up one of the eyelids to get a closer look.  “It’s the same,” he said. 

Ianto leaned over him, and he could see the tell-tale mark of a needle puncture in the white of the eyeball.  “Damnit,” the dragon sighed.  He’d been hoping for a nice, regular homicide, and not a sign that their perpetrator wasn’t escalating his killings.

“I take you’ll be wanting the body then?” Andy inquired.

“I’m afraid so.”

“I’ll have the boys bag the poor sod up and have him sent on to the Hub.  Just let me know when we can collect him back for his family.”

Ianto only hoped they’d be able to eventually release the body back to the CID.  He didn’t say anything to Andy though; the constable would know from experience that it was never that easy.

Still, he would make certain the boy’s family would have some sort of closure.  It was the least they could do.

 

**********

 

“The attack took place in the woods,” Ianto reported, once he and Tom had gotten back to the Hub.  Barry Leonard’s body had already arrived, and he been placed into the care of Owen’s capable hands.

He’d found his mate in his office, going over some files.  Jack looked a bit frustrated, and was taking it out on his paperwork.  Ianto didn’t care, as long as it got done, and he’d long ago learned that Jack in this mood would plow through his work like a man possessed.

“There were no witnesses,” he continued, “and no CCTV.  SOCO went over the scene but didn’t find anything.”

“Same as the others,” Jack sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He tossed his pen down forcefully, and the implement bounced across the blotter and would have gone onto the floor if Ianto hadn’t caught it.

“Yep.  And Tosh checked…his medical records have already been erased.”  Ianto could tell that their technical expert was getting angry at her lack of success in retrieving the records, and he couldn’t blame her.  Someone had done an excellent job of making sure they couldn’t trace any of the victims’ histories, and Toshiko wasn’t used to failure.  She’d mumbled something about system memories and temporary files and had dived back into her work, her teeth actually grinding as her fingers stabbed the computer keys a little harder than was strictly necessary, almost as if she could pound out the information she was trying to find.

“Tom and I also questioned Barry Leonard’s University roommate…turns out that Barry was supposedly cured of diabetes.”

He knew that would get Jack’s attention.  “You can’t just be ‘cured’ like that…at least, not in this century. The final cure for that sort of thing didn’t happen until the 23rd century.”

Ianto nodded.  Being a dragon meant that he didn’t have such ailments as most humans, but he was very much aware of what diabetes was, having lived among humans most of his life and having met a couple with the condition.  “He’d stopped taking his insulin, according to his roommate.  And he’d started drinking and doing drugs with no ill effects…well, besides the usual, of course.”  He’d also been waving about more cash than a poor university student should have, which led Ianto’s mind in certain directions. 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Jack growled. 

“I’ve Let Owen and Martha know, and they’re going to question Marie about it.”

“Yeah, apparently Marie is so normal, it’s abnormal, according to Owen.”

Ianto frowned.  “How is that possible?”  There were no such things as miracle cures; even magic had its limits, and curing diabetes wasn’t even in the realm of possibility…at least, not yet.  Certainly, he knew that certain people managed to control it with diet or medication, but to completely wipe it out…and, according to Barry Leonard’s roommate, to have suddenly stopped with the healthy eating and to have begun indulging in every vice known…there was no way Barry could have kept that sort of thing under control doing that sort of thing. 

And yet, he’d been perfectly healthy.  He’d also suddenly been flush with cash.

Ianto knew something was going on…some sort of conspiracy.  Jack agreed with him, and he didn’t even have to ask his mate for confirmation.  Someone was responsible for killing these innocent people, and it was going to be up to Torchwood to figure out who it was.

“Both Martha and Owen seem to think that it’s what the killer is trying to cover up…hopefully we’ll have more when they get back and the tests are done.” 

The dragon took up his usual spot on the corner of Jack’s desk, staring down at his mate.  Jack had that look, the one that said he was absolutely determined to find out whoever was doing this and making them pay. 

It was one of the many things Ianto loved about Jack: his need to make things right, to avenge those that were injured and to help those who needed it.  He was well aware of his mate’s past, and Jack’s determination to rise above it.  He did that fantastically, and Ianto was so very proud of him.

“We’re going to find out what’s going on,” he murmured, attempting to reinforce Jack’s own determination.

“Oh, I know,” Jack answered, and the grin he gave would have had Ianto shivering if it had been aimed in his direction, “and we’ll stop whoever the hell it is from killing again.  This isn’t just some freak with a needle fetish…”

Ianto completely agreed with that assumption.  “I’ve also asked Tosh to check on the victim’s bank records, since Barry Leonard seemed to have more money than he should.”

Jack grinned.  “Follow the cash…always a good idea.  Let’s hope Toshiko’s able to find something there since she’s really had no luck with the medical records.  Which should really tell us something about the people behind this.  If they’re able to hide from our Toshiko…”

Nothing needed to be said about that.  If they’d completely hidden themselves from Toshiko’s prying eyes, then it went way behind some serial killer.

Ianto just hoped they could find out who it was before they struck again.


	6. Chapter 6

 

**_1 October 2008_ **

 

 

Owen bent over Marie Thomas, his penlight flashing in her eyes.  Her pupils were reacting to it, but she had been completely out of it when he and Martha had arrived. 

The doctor on her case couldn’t explain the young woman’s sudden collapse, and that didn’t surprise Owen in the least.  Shit, Torchwood had equipment beyond what the hospital had in their lab, and _they_ couldn’t work it out.  It had to have something to do with what Owen had found in the latest round of tests, and Marie was the only person who could give them a clue as to what it was.

“Marie,” Martha called, trying to get some sort of response from their patient, “can you hear me?”

A hand came up weakly and tried to bat the penlight away, and Owen put it away in his lab coat pocket.  He and Martha had come in prepared in coats, gloves, and masks, because they still didn’t have the results back from the tests he’d set running in order to identify any sort of bacterial infection.  The last thing either of them needed was to catch some weird sort of shit.

“Yeah,” Marie moaned, her eyes trying to focus first on Martha, and then on Owen.  It looked like she was coming back to full awareness, which meant Owen could start asking his questions.

“Okay, you’ve got something in your blood that we can’t identify.”  Owen didn’t have the patience to coddle her, not any more.  “We think it’s behind your current illness and we need to know what it is in order to help you, alright?”

Marie frowned.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.  You’re the doctors, you tell me what’s wrong.”

Owen glanced at Martha, and his friend’s eyes were narrowed.  There was something shifty in Marie’s response, but he couldn’t tell what it was.  Call it Doctor’s Intuition…knowing that your patient was lying about something but there was no way to pinpoint what it was.  This was the main reason why the medic didn’t like treating live patients anymore; their tendency to lie about shit that was important to their case.

Of course, he now worked with a team that knew they had to be completely honest, because in Torchwood’s line of work it could mean the difference between life and the death of the entire fucking planet.

At that moment, Owen’s comm beeped.

_“Owen,”_ Ianto’s voice murmured in his ear, _“there’s something you should know.”_

The dragon sounded very serious, and somehow Owen knew this was going to be some sort of break.  The medic knew that Ianto and Tom had gone to question the roommate of their latest victim, and it was obvious there was some sort of new information. 

He stepped away from Marie, feeling Martha’s eyes on him as he touched the hidden comm in his ear.  “What is it?”

_“Barry Leonard was supposed to have completely recovered from diabetes.”_

Owen stilled.  He knew bloody well that someone just didn’t ‘recover’ from diabetes.  Certainly, there were meds and diet that can help control it, but once a person was diagnosed they had the condition for the rest of their lives. 

Suddenly, a few pieces of the puzzle were falling into place.  “Thanks, Ianto.” He clicked his comm off, and turned back to Marie.  The young woman was pale, but had managed to sit up in the bed, her dark hair scraggly around her face.  She didn’t look well at all, and a part of Owen didn’t want to push her for answers.  However, they needed to know more and Marie was the only person who had what they needed.

“Right,” he said, stepping back up and practically in the young woman’s personal space.  “Listen, Marie.  You need to level with us.  This could be a matter of life and death.”  He met her eyes squarely.  “Have you ever had a serious medical condition?”

Judging from the way she jerked, Owen knew he’d struck a nerve.  Out of the corner of his eye he could see Martha reacting to the question, as she turned her suddenly knowing gaze onto their patient.  Owen could tell she was also putting the pieces together, and coming up with the same answers he was.

Marie’s blood was perfect.  There was absolutely nothing wrong with it, as well as her general physical condition.  She was as perfectly healthy as a person could get and it was totally wrong.  No one could be that flawless a condition and it be natural.

Finally, Marie sighed, hugging herself tightly.  “It was too good to be true,” she muttered, ducking her head and hiding her face behind the fall of her hair.

“What do you mean?” Martha demanded.

Marie’s eyes darted between Owen and Martha, and then whispered, “I had HIV.”

Owen was stunned.  There was no way in hell this girl was HIV positive. 

And yet…Ianto’s victim had reportedly been cured of diabetes. 

If there was one thing he’d learned about working for Torchwood was that nothing was bloody impossible.  Owen had seen way too much to disbelieve what he was hearing.

Martha was shaking her head.  “You’re perfectly clear of antibodies.  What you’re saying is impossible.”

She’d seen her fair share of the incredible, so to Owen it was apparent that Martha believed Marie’s assertion.  It was just so hard to accept, but they had to in their line of work.

“That’s the Reset,” Marie answered, sounding defeated.  She coughed roughly, not bothering to cover her mouth with her hand. Owen wanted to chide her for not being sanitary, but there were bigger fish to fry at the moment.

He really needed to know what the bloody fuck _Reset_ was.  That had to be the answer to everything.

“Reset?” Martha demanded.  “What is that?  Some sort of drug?”

“I’m not familiar with it,” Owen added. “What’s the chemical name?”  He had the feeling he wouldn’t recognise if even with that.

Marie started laughing, but it turned into another cough. 

“Where’d you get it, Marie?” Martha asked.  Her hands were up, and Owen thought for a moment that his fellow doctor was going to shake her if it meant getting what they needed out of her. 

“I got it from the farm,” the girl answered.

Now, that was almost a non-answer in Owen’s opinion.  “What farm?” He almost wanted to shake her himself.

“No, the Pharm.  P-H-A-R-M.  It’s a medical research place, alright?”

That didn’t ring a bell at all with Owen.  “How did you get it from them?”

Marie coughed again, the sound raspier than it had been before.  “They gave it to me.  They paid me a lot of money, told me I had to keep quiet as part of the contract – “

Marie suddenly jerked backward, and before Owen could react she had begun convulsing violently, the entire hospital bed shaking under the sharp movements.

The alarm that was on the monitor that Marie had been hooked to went off, the strident noise assaulting Owen’s ears as he moved as fast as he could to help the distressed young woman.  In that moment, he was completely calm, setting aside the doubts and fears he felt in order to do what he could to save her.  Martha was on the other side of the bed, calling out Marie’s name, trying to get her to respond to her, holding her down to keep her from accidentally flinging herself off the bed,

Owen went to the cart that had been set up near the monitors, looking for something that would help with the seizure.  He managed to locate a syringe with phenytoin, and he quickly snapped the cap off and readied the needle.

He injected it into the closest part of Marie’s body, which was the thigh.  It seemed to take affect instantly, the girl’s body slumping into stillness.  He was about to take a deep breath and relax when the monitor flatlined.

What the fuck…

Martha looked stunned.  “I can’t believe…she’s dead.”  Her eyes met Owen’s, and the same confusion was in them that Owen was feeling.

Something had gone horribly wrong, and the medic had no idea what it was.

They both backed away slightly from the bed, where Marie was sprawled in undignified death.  They’d have to do a post-mortem, of course; for Marie to have died that quickly, something would have had to have been wrong that he and Martha had not seen.

Plus, there was this Reset thing that Marie had mentioned.  Was something like that possible…something that could completely cure HIV and other chronic and life-threatening illnesses?  Owen was willing to bet that was what he’d seen in her blood work, that substance that he hadn’t been able to identify.

If someone was giving people an untested and illegal drug…

Owen was about to speak his conclusions when there was an inexplicable buzzing sound coming from the corpse.

All he could do was stare as a swarm of _something_ rose from Marie’s slack mouth. 

It wasn’t until the swarm darted in his direction that Owen broke out of his stunned surprise and reacted.

The first thing he did was hit the quarantine alarm, needing to cut off this swarm from the rest of the hospital.  “Emergency bio-hazard!” he shouted, hoping the police guard outside could hear him.  Then he shouted for Martha, who was backing away from the bed in horror.

Her expression most likely matched his own. 

He didn’t have time to even think before he was pulling Martha toward the corner of the room, glad that they’d both been taking precautions against contamination and had worn sterile masks while treating Marie.  The swarm encircled them, and Owen yanked Martha down and covered her with his arms, his heart beating like a drum as he prayed to a god he really didn’t believe in that whatever the hell these things were wouldn’t get past the masks and into their bodies.

If what had happened to Marie was any indication, it would have meant their deaths if they were somehow ingested.  He closed his eyes, and hoped they didn’t somehow sting.

However, barely seconds later there was the soft sound of something hitting the ground, almost like raindrops against pavement.  Owen lifted his head, and watched as the weird bugs all fell to the floor, dead.

He released his grip on Martha, leaning forward to get a closer look.  Owen managed to scoop one up, and he held up on the tip of his finger.

It closely resembled a mosquito, but it was just off enough to be totally alien.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

**_1 October 2008_ **

 

“So,” Martha said, “it’s an alien larva, incubating in human bodies.”

After what had happened at the hospital, Martha had really just wanted to find her boyfriend and have a nice cuddle.  She’d seen a lot in her time with the Doctor and with UNIT, but this…it was disgusting.  She’s wanted nothing but to get a little comfort with Tom, but she knew there wasn’t time to indulge.

Still, the moment she and Owen had gotten back to the Hub with Marie’s body, Tom had been waiting for her, and had pulled her in for a hug that she’d gratefully sunken into.  He was her rock; her comfort in difficult times, and Martha knew she’d have been lost without him.

Maybe they hadn’t been together all that long, but perhaps it was time she asked him to marry her.  She already couldn’t imagine living without him.

She’d had to break away from him reluctantly, but there had been work to do.  Martha and Owen had made their report to Jack and Ianto, and had finalised their findings.  That had led to this, the team coming together in the boardroom, and she and Owen were leading the meeting.

There was an image up on the main screen of the alien bug that had emerged from Marie Thomas’ corpse.  She had to repress a shiver just from seeing it there.

It could have been a disaster if those insects had gotten free from Marie’s hospital room…and she didn’t want to think what would have happened to her and Owen if one of them had managed to insinuate themselves within their bodies.  They would have ended up just like that poor girl.

“We’ve never seen anything like it,” Owen cut in.  “So, when it left Marie’s body when she died, it was presumably to look for a new host for their next stage of development.”

“Which could have been us.” Martha didn’t mean to put it so baldly, but there it was.  Tom was giving her such a look, and it was at times like this that she felt bad that she lived such a dangerous life.  But then, he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Martha had come to realise that Tom accepted her for who she was, and that he would always support her no matter what she did.  It was just one more reason why she loved him so much.

“Yeah,” Owen added, sounding slightly breathless, “when they couldn’t find one soon enough, they died.”

It had been close.  If it hadn’t been for basic contagion protocols one of them could have slipped into either a mouth of nasal cavity, and it would have been all over.

Martha didn’t want to think about that.

Owen touched a control, because the screen changed to show the molecule they’d managed to isolate from Marie’s blood sample. “This, folks,” he said, “is a molecular model of the drug we found in Marie’s blood.”

“She called it Reset,” Martha added.  It was an appropriate name, she thought.

“So what does it do?” Ianto asked.  The dragon seemed calm, sitting in the chair next to Jack, his eyes taking everything in.

“Well,” Owen began, “think about when you run a virus scan through your computer, yeah?”

That got him nods from around the table.

“The software works its way through your files and when it finds a Trojan or a virus or whatever, identifies it and deletes it or whatever.”

“You’re saying this is what this stuff does?” Toshiko cut in.  Trust Tosh to completely understand Owen’s analogy.

“Exactly, only for the human body.  But it’s not just viruses. It’s harmful bacteria, toxins, even mutant cells…you name it.  It’s like the body’s been turned back to its factory settings.”

The reactions around the table varied, from intrigued to horrified.  Martha felt the latter herself, but then she knew the whole truth about this so-called miracle drug.  “It’s like the ultimate magic bullet,” she went on.  “It supersedes anything and everything in the pharmacological armoury.” 

“But that would be the greatest medical discovery in history,” Patrick interjected.  He was leaning forward, his elbows on the table, browns drawn together in a frown. 

“Exactly,” Martha agreed.  “The only problem is, it comes bundled with a lethal alien parasite.”

Owen put the alien insect up on the screen once more. It still gave Martha the creeps.

“Not so good a discovery then,” Jack quipped.

“Nope,” Owen agreed.

“The parasite needs a healthy host while it incubates,” Martha went on after getting the nod from Owen.  She wasn’t sure she appreciated him letting her take charge of the briefing like that, because it was really bothering her to discuss this.  What was being done was vile and inhuman, and it had to be stopped, but a small, childish part of her wanted Owen to explain it instead of her.  “So the parasite’s egg incorporates the magic bullet, which puts everything in the system back to its factory settings.”  She wasn’t sure about how Owen had put that, but she was going to stick with it because that was precisely what it did.

“Reset.” Jack’s tone was sarcastic.  “Neato.  So…who runs the Pharm?”

“Well,” Ianto said, “their public image is innocent enough.”  He began passing out some papers that the dragon must have had printed out.  Martha took one; it was a flyer for the Pharm.  “Private-public partnership between the government and a consortium of the pharmaceutical companies. Researching and developing cutting-edge biotechnology.”

Toshiko scoffed.  “Their IT systems are way more cutting-edge than they need to be. Plus, they've got seemingly unrestricted security clearance.”

“Which means they'd have the capability to erase medical records if they wanted to,” Martha realised.  That made so much sense…the Pharm was doing something illegal; they would have had to erase any and all trace of their trial subjects and their previous medical history.  A cover-up of really epic proportions.

“Exactly,” Toshiko agreed.

“So,” Rhys put in, “who just runs this place then?”

“The institute director is a Dr Aaron Copley,” Ianto answered. He nodded to Toshiko, who brought up a picture on the large screen.  It was of a man in perhaps his 60’s, balding, wearing a nice suit and looking more like a businessman than a scientist. There was something about his eyes though that made Martha shiver, despite the smile the man was wearing. 

Owen was actually glaring at the photograph.  “Yeah, I know his work. He's one of the most respected research scientists in his field.”  He sounded disappointed in Copley’s life choices.

Which, if Martha had any say in it, he had a perfect right to.  This man was performing experiments on unsuspecting people, and they needed to put a stop to it.  No one else should have to die in order to hide what Copley was doing.

“Harvard graduate,” Ianto reported. “Did research at Cambridge. Last job, Harvard Professor of  
Molecular Pharmacology. Came to the UK to set up the Pharm.”

“Handsome guy,” Jack said sarcastically. The dragon rolled his eyes at the comment.  “I wonder how he’ll feel about visitors.”  He stood up.  “Owen, Patrick, and I will take a trip down there.  I want everyone else working on the problem.  We need to know more about what’s going on out there before we shut the bastard down.”  He smiled sharply, looking almost shark-like.  “Let’s see if we can rattle his cage a little.”

Martha wanted to argue, to demand to go with them, but there also needed to be more tests done, and she could understand why Jack would take Owen instead.  If her medic friend was familiar with Copley, he might be able to get more out of him. 

She would just have to wait her turn.

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

**_1 October 2008_ **

 

The Pharm was located on a large private estate outside of Cardiff, surrounded by trees and far too much security.

There was an honest to god guard post at the gate.

Owen shook his head as they approached.  Jack was driving; the wheels threw up gravel as he slammed on the brakes at the front gate.  A beefy guard in a grey jumper approached the open window, and he had a gun in a holster at his waist.  It was just plain overkill, as far as Owen was concerned.  He’d been around long enough to know this was just one more reason to believe that the Pharm was hiding something.  A person just didn’t have armed guards for a research facility, and if it had been doing government contracts the guards would have been at least regular Army.  These were private security, and it made Aaron Copley look decidedly shady in Owen’s opinion.

The guard on duty stepped up to the open window, and Jack barked, “Torchwood,” at him.

The guard checked the clipboard he was carrying, and Owen was glad that Ianto had convinced Jack to let him call ahead and make the initial visit official, because the man simply glanced at his list and then waved them on.  The gate slid up, and Jack was driving through and up the long, private driveway toward the main house.

Owen had to admit the place was impressive.  Multiple storeys, constructed of pale stone with a fancy looking front door where two more guards were stationed, these two also armed and looking distinctly competent.

Jack parked in front of the stoop, slinging more gravel all over the place.  The guards didn’t even flinch, which Owen had to give them credit for.  Anyone else would have been wary of Jack’s driving just from how he’d made that U-turn in the large area that had plenty of room for more cars.  A small side drive led off into the trees, and the medic thought he could just make out a fence beyond. 

The three of them exited the SUV, Jack and Owen striding side by side and Patrick taking up position at the rear, and he knew the American had to have looked like some sort of PA or secretary, and not the heavily armed operative he was.  Owen sometimes thought that Patrick’s ability to resemble someone completely innocuous was some sort or superpower.

There was a front desk just inside the door, and Jack made his way confidently up to the woman sitting there, announcing their appointment to see Dr Copley.  Once again, the word ‘Torchwood’ worked wonders, and they were being ushered toward an office down the hallway, one that had the director of the Pharm’s name on it in tasteful gold lettering.

Aaron Copley’s office was well-appointed, and very neat.  If they already didn’t know that Copley was up to something, Owen would have instantly distrusted him just for that alone.  Any researcher he’d ever known had had journals and papers strewn about the desk, and the shelves would have been filled with well-used reference books.  Everything looked too new and shiny, and Owen figured this was where Copley met with anyone asking to see him who didn’t work for the Pharm.

Jack sat down in the single visitor’s chair in front of Copley’s desk.  The man was pretty much what his picture had shown, although the blankness in the pale eyes was much more pronounced.

Owen took up position near the door, in front of one of the shelves.  Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Patrick pulled his ‘I’m here, but don’t mind me’ act that he was well known for.  How he could practically vanish into the background of any environment Owen didn’t know.  He was worse than Dragon Boy at doing it.

Copley was pretty much ignoring them.  Owen had to give him balls for that, but then he didn’t know just how dangerous Patrick really was. 

Jack though, was lounging in his chair, as if he had all the time in the world.  He held the unmarked file folder he’d carried with him loosely in one hand, the folder resting on his lap.  He was watching Copley as the researcher kept his attention on a file on his desk, happily prepared to wait him out.

Owen wasn’t that patient, but he wasn’t about to break the silent stalemate between the two men.

Finally, Copley spoke.  “I’m afraid you’ve wasted your trip out here, Mr…Harker, was it?”

One side of Jack’s mouth crooked upward in a knowing smile. “Harkness.  Captain Jack Harkness.  But you can call me Jack.”  He slouched even further, as if amused by the whole thing.

Maybe he was.  Owen was good by now at reading his boss but this was Jack playing one of his little interrogation games, and it was a game he was particularly good at a lot of the time.

“Captain?” Copley returned blandly.  “Where do you park your boat?”

Jack laughed.  Owen knew damned well that Copley wasn’t that stupid, and would have recognised Jack’s RAF greatcoat for what it was.  “I like a man with a sense of humour.  Know any good jokes about clinical trials?”

He leaned over, flipping opening his folder and placing it on top of Copley’s paperwork.  Inside were the photos of the three of their victims, looking very dead, and Jack fanned them out so Copley could see each and every one of them. 

“Are these supposed to mean anything to me?” Copley asked calmly.  Owen bristled at the dismissive tone.  “Because, Jack, I don’t recognise any of these faces. And as the institute director, I would have met them personally, had they been our trial subjects.”

Copley was a cool character.  Owen had to give him props for not reacting to any of the pictures.  Of course, being a researcher he would have seen dead bodies before, but lying to Jack about not knowing them took guts and a certain amount of bullshit to do. 

“Mister Copley – “

“It’s professor, actually.”

“But I can call you Aaron, right?” The smile on Jack’s face now was downright predatory.

It didn’t seem to faze Copley at all.  Instead, he simply slid the photographs back into a neat pile and closed the file folder, hiding them from view.  On a lot of people, it would have been construed as a sign of guilt, but Owen doubted Copley had a single shred of conscience left.

“See, this is a little awkward,” Jack went on. “Two of these people were murdered. Another died of a parasitic infection of alien origin and mentioned your organization's name shortly before she died.”  He rested his index finger lightly on the closed file.

Copley snorted. “Alien origin?  That’s preposterous.”

Even as he was denying it, Owen saw something in Copley that had him certain that the man was lying.  Yeah, he was a cool customer, and it was apparent Owen would never want to play poker with him, but there was just something off about the answer he was giving out so patly.  Not that Owen had had any doubt that Copley knew exactly what was going on, of course.

Owen found himself interrupting.  “Uh, Professor, when I was writing my MD thesis, your published  
works on immunology were very helpful, so thank you.” He made himself sound grateful, hoping to put the man at ease after Harkness’ rough tactics. They needed to know what was going on, and it was apparent that Copley wasn’t going to cave under Jack’s form of ‘smack ‘em over the head’ type of interrogation.

Copley nodded his head graciously.  “Glad I could be of service.”

Owen really wanted to knock that smug look off the older man’s face, but he couldn’t do that just yet.  “Now, if there was a drug that could restore the human body back to its factory settings, as it were, you would know about it, right?”

“Certainly, but no such drug exists.”

Jack rolled his eyes.  “I had a boyfriend once whose nostrils flared when he lied.”

It was all Owen could do not to thump Jack on the back of the head.  He’d wanted to get farther with Copley, and that certainly hadn’t helped, especially since Copley’s nostrils did not, in fact, flare, although he really was lying his arse off.

Copley’s smug smile vanished, and he looked at his watch. Standing, he said, “I’m already late for my next appointment.  So if you gentlemen would excuse me?”

“We’ll just take a look around then.”

The man’s face went blank at Jack’s comment.  “Our research suites are classified, so we can't grant you access to those, but we'd be delighted to give you the PR tour as soon as I can arrange a suitable guide.”

“Normally, Aaron, we usually go where we like.”

Owen wanted to shake his head.  Jack wasn’t going to get anywhere, but at this point throwing around the ‘above the government’ card couldn’t hurt all that much. They were most likely going to get tossed out on their arses anyway at the rate his boss was going.  Calling Copley by his first name in that sort of tone wasn’t going to get any sort of cooperation anyway.  May as well do what Jack was good at: bull his way through and damn the consequences.

Copley gone back to smug bastard mode.  “Not here, actually. Ask Whitehall. We're fireproof.”

“Yeah, I had a bad experience with a politician recently. I tend not to listen to Whitehall any more. Nor do I really have to.”

Like they all hadn’t had a bad experience with the self-same politician.  Harold Saxon still gave Owen nightmares, and he hadn’t been the one who’d been the Master’s prisoner for a bloody year.  It made him really wonder sometimes just what Ianto had to put up with when Jack dreamt.

Then he decided he didn’t want to know and would suffer his own bad dreams in silence.

Copley though wasn’t about to let Jack get away with his usual bullshit.  He came around the desk, passed by Patrick as the man was lounging against the bookcase, and pulled the door open.  “Let me get someone to guide you back to your vehicle.”  He made a motion outside, and two security guards, a man and a woman, appeared in the open doorway.  The man had his hand on the butt of his weapon, and Owen didn’t even want to take a chance with the woman; she looked perfectly capable of kicking his arse all the way back to Cardiff.

Owen had expected Jack to argue, but instead he accepted the two ‘escorts’ and let them show the trio out.  Owen was a bit surprised, but then Jack was well aware that he and Patrick weren’t as immortal as Jack himself was and there was enough firepower on display that Owen doubted even Patrick could fight his way deeper into the facility, even with all the deadly weapons he knew his teammate had on his person.  They were gonna need back-up if they were going to take on the Pharm.

“Was it me,” Patrick commented as they made their way down the short set of steps and to the SUV, “or was he a bit touchy?”

“Noticed that, did you?” Jack used his wrist strap to unlock the vehicle’s doors, and the three of the climbed inside.  “So much for the polite approach.”

Owen snorted, because sure as hell that wasn’t at all polite.  “We need to turn this place over.”  He was more than certain Copley was behind the Reset now that he’d met the man.

Once behind the wheel, Jack touched another control on his vortex manipulator, and the thing beeped.  “Oh yeah.  According to these readings this place has the highest concentration of alien life forms this side of the Rift.”  He slid his seatbelt on.  “And grey is so not her colour.”

Glancing back over Jack toward the entry, Owen could see that Jack was right.  Grey wasn’t that woman’s colour at all.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to have this up on Saturday, but with Hurricane Matthew we were slammed at work and I was just too tired when I got off shift. I'm sure I can be persuaded to post another chapter at some point in the next couple of days. *winks*
> 
> Also, just to let you all know (if I haven't already) all the Dragon-Verse Series Two stories are complete, except for some editing needed. Upcoming are:
> 
> "The Eighth Annual Torchwood Pub Crawl" ( because I love Ianto singing karaoke!)  
> "Once Bitten" (taking the place of "Something Borrowed")  
> "Last Breath" ("From Out of the Rain")  
> "Damaged" ("Adrift")  
> "Brothers and Enemies" ("Fragments"/"Exit Wounds")  
> "The Mating Flight" (Jack and Ianto's official mating)
> 
> I also have the two first stories done of what I'm calling "The Mother's Trilogy" for the Future-Verse, all about Jack's Mother and how she comes back into Jack's life. They are: "A Mother's Love" and "A Mother's Duty". The third, "A Mother's Life" is being started today. I'm also planning on working on the Dragon-Verse version of "Stolen Earth/Journey's End" for NaNo this year.
> 
> This is the state of the Dragon-Verse as of today. :) 
> 
> Also, I'm going with the way the contacts worked in the episode, and not CoE.

 

**_1 October 2008_ **

 

“I can’t hack in there, Jack,” Toshiko said, frustrated at her lack of results.  Ianto glanced over at her as she was throwing her glasses down on the top of her workstation.  “And if I keep trying with a brute force approach they’re going to know they’re under attack.”  There wasn’t much that Toshiko couldn’t get into, so the security around the Pharm’s servers must have been really tight.

His mate looked as frustrated as Toshiko was, and Ianto couldn’t blame him.  His ‘interview’ with Copley had gone badly, as reported by Owen and Patrick, and Jack needed to be doing _something_.  “We need a way in there,” Jack sighed, hands in his pockets and his eyes travelling around the Hub.  When he met Ianto’s, he tried to give a smile but it was a mostly failed effort.

“I’ve got the results of that research,” Rhys sang out from his own desk. 

Ianto made his way to Toshiko and Jack, just as the picture on their technician’s screen changed.  The dragon wasn’t at all ashamed at looking over her shoulder to see what Rhys had found. 

It was an ad for volunteers for medical research at the Pharm.

Without having to look, Ianto was well aware that everyone in the Hub had gathered about Toshiko’s area.  “That’s brilliant,” Toshiko exclaimed. “They’re looking for people for another study.”

“It’s understandable,” Jack sneered, “given their wastage rate.”

“That’s our way in,” Ianto murmured, knowing his mate would hear him.

“So someone’s going undercover,” Patrick concluded.

“No,” Jack denied.  “No, we don't know enough about the workings of that place. Too many things  
could go wrong.”

He was being cautious, and Ianto couldn’t blame him for it.  Sending someone in would be dangerous, and there was no guarantee they’d even be picked to participate anyway.

“Unless you put a medic in there,” Martha suggested.  “Someone who knew what they were looking for.”

“Yeah, but they already know me,” Owen sighed, “so it can’t be me.” 

But Ianto knew Martha; knew that she hadn’t meant Owen at all.

Apparently, it had dawned on Tom as well, from the rather pointed looks he was giving her.

“Believe it or not,” Martha said dryly, “but I wasn’t thinking about you, Owen.”

That was, of course, when everyone got it.

Ianto wanted to tell her no, that it was far too dangerous, that going into the Pharm without back-up was just asking for trouble.

The problem was, the dragon knew that Martha could do it.  He’d seen her do some amazing things, including walking into an obvious trap back during that Year and coming out on the other side with several new converts and totally unscathed.  There wasn’t anyone outside of Torchwood that he trusted more when the world was ending than Martha Jones, his Nightingale.

Jack was just staring at Martha, and the dragon could tell he really didn’t want to send her in, either.  But Martha was more than capable, and they really needed someone inside the Pharm to get the information they needed in order to raid the place.

Because, while Torchwood was indeed above the government and beyond the police – as Jack was fond of saying – the Pharm did in fact have several contracts that, if they did go in without evidence and guns blazing, would cause problems for the government.  Plus, they were too few to go barrelling in without inside information, despite the presence of several very dangerous people on the team.  Going in blindly could only lead to one of them getting hurt…or killed.

Surprisingly, there wasn’t any argument against Martha’s idea.  Instead, everyone was looking at Jack, waiting for him to make that decision.  Jack didn’t want to make it, judging from the flexing in his jaw, but it was, in the end, up to him.  Jack was Torchwood’s Director, and his was the final word.

He was silent just a bit too long, because Martha added, “You know I’ve been in worst places, Jack.  I can handle it.” She sounded confident, and Ianto felt she had a right to be.

Because she was right.  Martha had been in worst places.  Ianto had been there right beside her in many of them.  Going undercover at the Pharm shouldn’t even rank within the top ten of those. 

There was only one answer to that.

“Okay,” Jack said. 

 

**********

 

“Alright,” Ianto said, spreading his information across the boardroom table, “these are the plans for the Pharm's buildings.”  He rested his spread fingers onto the printout he’d gotten through the public records, indicating the larger of the buildings on it.  “From what Jack, Owen, and Patrick saw, they reckon that the main house contains Copley's office, administration offices, medical research suites and the accommodation for the clinical trials subjects.”

Martha nodded along with him.  Tom was hovering behind her, a strange combination of pride and worry on his features.  Ianto could totally relate.

She managed to ignore the hovering boyfriend, concentrating on the blueprints.  “What about the buildings in the rear?” She gestured toward the second structure on the plans.

“It seems to be restricted; fenced off with armed security from what Patrick noticed,” he answered.  “Jack thinks that's where the readings of alien life came from when he did his scan.”

“Cool.” For the first time since Jack had agreed to her request to go undercover, Martha was excited.

“But you don’t need to go anywhere near there.”

Martha actually pouted.  “Spoilsport.” Tom rolled his eyes; it was a good thing she didn’t catch sight of him doing it, because she most likely would have smacked him for it, knowing her.

Ianto snorted.  Of course she’d want to explore what might be the more important area of the Pharm, but there was no way she could do it without back-up.  They didn’t have enough information to go on to plan that sort of infiltration. “The first thing you need to do is get yourself accepted as a clinical trials subject. Don't try too hard, don't draw too much attention to yourself.”

“Be invisible,” Martha agreed, nodding.  “I can do that.”

The dragon was well aware of that.  He’d lost track of the number of times he and Martha had had to be completely unobtrusive during that Year.  She was supremely good at not being noticed, even when there’d been a price on her head that any member of the Resistance would have been tempted by.

“Once you're in,” he continued, “we need you to gain access to the Pharm's IT systems. Close down the system firewalls and security protocols. That way Tosh can gain access to the files and see what they're really up to.”

“Industrial espionage. It's very civilized.”  What she didn’t say was, _unlike some of the things we’ve done before._

It really amazed Ianto that Martha wasn’t more jaded than she was.  She’d been through hell for a year, and yet could still look at the bright side and joke about things that would have sent anyone else to go and jibber in a corner.  The dragon was so very proud of her, and glad that she was his friend.  His Nightingale.

“Once you've done that, get out. Don't take any unnecessary risks.”  Of course, that was like telling the sky not to be blue.  Martha would do what she thought was necessary, and if it put her in danger she wouldn’t even bat an eye.  It was infuriating about her, but Ianto certainly understood it. 

He was the same way, really.  They were too much alike in that respect for him to fault her for it.

Still, Martha didn’t have the excuse of being near-immortal.  She was a flesh and blood human, ephemeral, and could die very easily.  In many ways she was more of a hero than Ianto ever could be, just because of how fragile her life was.  And yet, she was willing to put that life on the line to do the right thing. 

“Understood,” she nodded in response.

“Very good.”  Ianto began gathering up his materials.  “Let’s get your identity sorted then, shall we?”

“Absolutely.”  Martha paused a moment, looking at Ianto as if she was trying to read his mind.  “I know you can’t be comfortable with this, Dragon.”

Ianto sighed.  “It’s not that I’m uncomfortable.  I know you, Nightingale.  I know what you’re capable of.  I also trust you implicitly.  It’s Copley and his people I don’t trust.  You’re walking into an unknown situation; but then, that’s nothing unusual.  It’s just that I won’t be close enough this time to come to the rescue if anything should go wrong.”

She came around the table and wrapped him in her arms, hugging him tightly.  “I still trust you to watch my back,” she murmured.  “No matter how far away you are, you’ll come for me if I need it.  I _know_ it.”

He was touched by her words.  Knowing that she had such faith in him was daunting.  Ianto would do everything in his power not to let her down.

They embraced for perhaps longer than strictly necessary, but then Ianto could be excused by the fact that they hadn’t been this close in a bit.  They’d been practically living in each other’s pockets for a year, and sometimes it was just hard to let go.

Finally, though, Ianto pulled away, risking a glance at Tom to see how he was taking the dragon hugging his girlfriend for a protracted length of time.  The doctor just looked fond, and Ianto was glad the man wasn’t threatened by his closeness to the woman he loved.

“I have your ID.”  He pulled a plastic baggy out of his jacket pocket, which Martha accepted.  Inside was a driver’s license and other things she might be called upon to produce, including a faked envelope with ‘proof’ of residency.  Both he and Toshiko were nothing if not thorough. “First name Samantha. Thought the Jones would be safe.”

Martha gave him a funny look.  “Wasn’t that also the name of a former Doctor’s companion?”

“The Eighth Doctor, yes,” he admitted.  “But I liked the way it sounded, so I borrowed it.”

“Works for me.” She opened the baggy and replaced the fake license with her own, handing her I.D. over to Tom for safe keeping.  Then she made sure there was nothing in her bag that would compromise her cover.  “How do I stay in touch?”

“Tosh is working on that.  Come with me.”

Ianto led her and Tom out into the main Hub, where he searched for Toshiko; he spotted her just coming out of Jack’s office, followed by his mate.  They stopped and waited for the trio to join them, and Ianto saw the small box that Toshiko had obviously gotten from Jack’s safe.  He couldn’t help but smile.

Toshiko smiled back.  “Okay, communication's very tricky. The whole place could be wired, because Copley just seems the sort to be all that paranoid. We don't want you chattering away to us and being overheard.”

“But I want to monitor you at all times,” Jack added.  He still didn’t look happy, but Ianto knew his mate wouldn’t, not until Martha was out and safe and the Pharm taken down.

“How is that going to work then?” Martha asked, intrigued.

Toshiko flipped the box open, revealing a set of contacts.  The Eye-Five lenses had come through the Rift from the future, and while they hadn’t needed to use them on any missions yet, Ianto and Jack had tested them…quite thoroughly, and knew how well they worked. 

Martha, though, looked confused.  “I don’t need contacts,” she said, taking the offered box from Toshiko.

The technician smirked.  “You need these.”

The others had joined them, and Owen said, “Put them in and take them for a spin,” he urged.

Martha obeyed.  She had a little trouble getting the left one in, but Ianto chalked that up to her not ever having worn contact lenses before.  She blinked several times, most likely trying to get used to having something in her eyes.  “Okay? Now what?”

Toshiko headed over to her station, logging into the software that would control the lenses.  Martha must have been looking at Owen, because the medic’s image flashed up on the screen. 

Then Martha’s hand appeared.  “Oh!  I’m a camera!” She sounded absolutely charmed by the idea.

“And,” Toshiko said, turning back to her keyboard and typing, “we can text.”

Ianto watched as Martha’s head reared back, and then she grinned.  “That’s fantastic!” 

“Power comes from your body heat,” Toshiko explained.  “So they only work when you’re wearing them.”

“Yeah, so you have to wear them everywhere,” Owen teased.

“Hey!” Tom exclaimed.

Martha laughed, winking at her boyfriend. “There are some things I’ll have to do with my eyes closed, then.”

“This means in case of emergency we can contact you,” Jack said approvingly.  “And we can also hear what’s going on around you through the software controlling the lenses.”

“But can’t the signal be intercepted?” Martha was looking around the Hub, and the cameras were tracking with her.  She was having way too much fun with them, and Ianto made a mental note to make sure they had them back after the mission.  He was all too certain that Martha might try to take them with her when she and Tom left, if only to use them in their bedroom.  And, while he completely trusted her and Tom, there was no way he was going to risk UNIT somehow finding out about them and confiscating them.

“Alien technology,” the dragon answered, smiling slightly. “They exploit a solution to the EPR paradox.”  Toshiko had had to explain that to him, and he couldn’t help but show off a bit.

“Oh!” Martha exclaimed.  “Quantum entanglement of remote particles! Okay, cool. “

“You’re going to need to explain that to me at some point,” Tom requested curiously.  Then he glanced around at the rest of the team.  “It’s so nice to have a brilliant girlfriend.”  He was obviously so very proud of her, and Martha’s blush was evidence that she was pleased at the compliment.

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

**_1 October 2008_ **

 

The contacts were working perfectly.

The entire team was gathered around the monitor at Toshiko’s workstation, watched as a woman was taking Martha’s blood.  Owen’s eyes narrowed, but he couldn’t fault the woman’s technique as she carefully drew two vials, handing them off to a nurse who was waiting for them.

Owen had been uncomfortable about Martha going in alone, but she had been right…she could handle it.  She’d been in worse positions before, and quite honestly Owen didn’t want to remember the ones he’d heard about.  Of course he was familiar with how she and Ianto had met Patrick, and how their teammate had almost gotten killed breaking his cover in that warlord’s ‘castle’ and saving her, all because he knew how important she was.  Sure, Patrick didn’t know that, but Owen still couldn’t help but respect him for it. 

Owen himself – and Tom, his partner – hadn’t met Patrick during that Year, but he really did like the former FBI agent.  Which was why he silently agreed when the man had mumbled, “I don’t like this.”

“Martha knows what she’s doing,” Ianto returned, his voice equally hushed.  What Owen didn’t hear the dragon say was, ‘ _And if you remembered you would know that_.’

Patrick had chosen not to be told about his exploits during that time, and Owen couldn’t blame him one bit.  There were times when he wished he didn’t remember that shit, either.

_“It’s standard procedure to take two blood samples,”_ the woman told Martha, _“one of them will be analysed overnight.”_ She thanked the nurse as the other woman left the room with the vials.  _“So, Samantha…tell me some of the places you’ve been.”_

Owen barely restrained the snort that threatened to escape; little did that woman know what a loaded question that was.

_“Well, I had a great time in North America, France and Germany, Australia...”_ Martha sounded somewhat nervous, which Owen thought was the right tone to take. 

_“What about the Third World? Africa, Latin America…”_

Ianto reached past Toshiko and typed something, and on the screen showing the view from the contacts an exclamation point in a triangle appeared.  Owen found himself nodding, because someone Martha’s age shouldn’t have been as world-travelled as she was claiming.

Martha must have gotten the message, because she said, _“No, but I’m sure I’ll get round to it.”_

Good girl, Owen couldn’t help but think.

He wondered how she’d managed to walk the world without back-up…but then, she’d had it, with Dragon Boy with her.  And if Ianto was anything, he was cautious.  He’d had to be, growing up as the last dragon in existence.

The woman picked up a clipboard, reading something on it.  _“Travel off the beaten track can be a bit of a problem for us. If you had some exotic tropical disease, there could be unexpected side effects, and volunteers’ welfare is our absolute priority”._

_“Oh I don't think there'll be any problem with that,”_ Martha said breezily. _“And of course I'm very conscious of health issues.”_

This time it was Toshiko’s turn to send the signal to take a step back.  There was a pause, and then Martha added, _“My mum's a nurse.”_

“Good save,” Jack applauded.

As they watched, Aaron Copley came into the room.  He didn’t look smug this time; in fact, Owen would have congratulated on his bedside manner if he was in the room with Martha…which he wasn’t.  It also didn’t help that the medic was well aware that it was an act, since Copley was so obviously up to something in that clinic of his.

_“This is Professor Copley, Samantha,”_ the woman introduced. _“He’s the Institute Director.”_

_“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Samantha,”_ Copley answered warmly.

_“Hello,”_ Martha said.  They could hear the smile in her voice.

“Tell Martha to get close to Copley,” Jack urged. 

Toshiko obliged, sending that message over the contacts to Martha.

Copley looked over the woman’s shoulder at the clipboard. _“I see you're a postgraduate student at the moment.”_

_“That’s right.”_

_“Studying what?”_

_“Creative writing,”_ Martha said, going with the cover they’d come up with, not wanting to give away just how educated in the sciences she actually was. 

As she was looking right at Copley and his assistant, the audience around the workstation saw the glance between the two; Copley looked unimpressed while the woman didn’t overly react.

_“So you see why I need the cash,”_ Martha rushed on, playing the starving student to the hilt.

_“Well I'm sure you'll understand, Samantha, that we have a lot of applicants.”_ He looked as if he was backing off, and they certainly didn’t want that.

“Tell her not to lose him,” Jack said, grasping the back of Toshiko’s chair as the technician typed out Jack’s order.

_“We'll let you know in due course.”_   Copley was leaving the room, and someone in the group cursed quietly. He wasn’t taking the bait, and they really needed Martha to get into the study group. 

Owen found himself biting the inside of his cheek as his nerves suddenly began getting the better of him.  This was almost worse than Copley figuring out that Martha was a plant, because they really couldn’t try again.  Copley had met himself, Jack, and Patrick; and they would need Toshiko to run the computer programs for the contacts.  That left Rhys, who was just too new – even though he’d done an excellent job with the space whale case – and Tom, who Owen knew too well…he just wasn’t the undercover sort of bloke. Sure, he’d done well as a smuggler, that only required short bursts of lying through his teeth.  This would have been prolonged, and Owen was positive Tom wouldn’t be good at it.

And he didn’t even consider sending Ianto in.  That would be giving Copley access to an honest to shit dragon, and there was no telling what he’d do.  Besides, those needles they were using for their blood draws wouldn’t even make a dent in Ianto’s epidermis.

No, it had to be Martha.  And if she wasn’t sexy enough bait for Copley to take –

Suddenly, Martha was standing.  _“Wait!  There’s something I haven’t told you.”_ She sounded even more nervous than before, and Owen found himself leaning forward in anticipation.

Toshiko sent _???_ through the lenses, but Owen figured out what Martha was doing without the prompting.  He thought Jack did as well, judging from the frown on his face.

Copley turned back.  _“Oh?”_ He was almost bored, but there was a predatory gleam in his eyes apparent even through the contact lenses.

_“It'll show up in the test results anyway.”_

It was absolutely silent in the Hub as they all watched and listened to Martha.

Martha hesitated.  _“I did have a hepatitis infection.”_

“Go, sweetheart,” he heard Tom whisper.

“What is she doing?” Rhys asked.

“She’s bullshitting,” Owen answered him. “It's her way in.”

This was brilliant.  All the victims had had some sort of disease, and dangling hepatitis in front of Copley would have been like waving a red flag in front of a bull.  He’d want those sorts of subjects; ones that had something wrong in them that he could fix with the Reset.  He wanted to applaud her, but didn’t dare break the tension in the room.

_“I mean,”_ Martha went on, her words faster as if she was trying to convince Copley that he did want her in his trial. _“I'm fine now, but it stays in the blood. Strictly speaking, it's incurable, right?”_

Copley was looking at her in a new way; calculating, as if trying to see into her bloodstream in order to find the very markers for hepatitis Martha was claiming she had.  It made Owen slightly ill to see it.  _“Well,”_ he finally said after a few moments of consideration, _“that puts a different complexion on things. We could use a subject with hepatitis. Are you available to start right now?”_

Martha actually bounced, judging from the jiggling of the transmission.  _“Well, sure!”_ She turned, picking up the bag she’d taken with her.  It couldn’t have any sort of tech in it, because that would have given her away if someone decided to search her belongings. _“I've brought my overnight things.”_   She sounded breathless and excited, a slight squeak in her voice.

_“Then all we need is your signature on this confidentiality agreement.”_   Copley led her over to a desk at the far end of the room, where there was another clipboard with a form on it, ready for Martha to sign.

Owen relaxed, even though the dangerous part was yet to come.  Still, Martha had managed to convince them to take her on, and that had been half the battle.

Everyone else seemed to relax as well, and Owen could have sworn he heard Tom exhale behind him.  Of course it was wearing on his friend, after all it was his girlfriend bearding the lion in his den.  Despite his faith in her Tom had to have been terrified that Martha was behind enemy lines with no quick way to get to her in case of trouble. 

Owen couldn’t blame him at all.  If it was Diane going inside that place…yeah, Tom had a perfect right to be worried.

“And…she’s in,” Patrick said as Martha put her fake signature on the paperwork.  He sounded very impressed.  Him being impressed was impressive, with him coming from a family of spies and shit.

“It’s not the getting in,” jack said darkly, “it’s the getting out.”

It was really what everyone else was thinking, but hearing Jack say it out loud brought a downer to the party. 

Copley thanked her as she handed the clipboard back.

_“What sort of drugs will I be taking?”_ Martha inquired, still acting like the excited student.

_“We have various products at the clinical trials stage,”_ he answered. “ _You'll be given a full briefing once we've finalised the program, and of course we won't proceed unless we have your informed consent.”_ He gave her a smile that was supposed to have been friendly, but looked more like something a shark would give when it saw its prey.

“Informed consent, my arse,” Owen growled.  There was no way any of Copley’s victims would have consented to Reset if they’d had any clue that it would end up killing them…if they hadn’t been murdered first.

Together Copley and the woman ushered Martha out of the room and down a pleasant looking corridor and past a door marked “Administration”.  That would be where they would find what they were looking for, and it would be up to Martha to find her way back. 

Owen was confident she’d be able to do just that.

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

**_2 October 2008_ **

 

As calm as Martha might have seemed on the outside, she was really a bundle of nerves waiting to jump out of her skin.

It really didn’t matter that she’d seen the end of the world; that she’d managed to dodge flying metal balls of death; that she’d faced down the crazy-arse Time Lord who called himself the Master.  Nothing would ever really prepare her for putting herself in danger, and it didn’t matter how many times she did it because she was always somewhat freaked out by how scared she could feel.

That wasn’t saying that she also didn’t love putting herself in harms’ way.  Truth be told, Martha had gotten a taste of the adrenaline high that came from facing down evil and triumphing over it.  Sure, she still had nightmares about that Year: the hole in the ocean that had once been Japan; being held by an all-too-human overlord who’d seized the chance to rise to power when the Master took over; operating on her best friend to remove armour-piercing bullets that would have killed a lesser being; knowing that Jack was being tortured and killed repeatedly just so her family could escape mainly unscathed; those and other horrors that she’s seen as she’d travelled the devastated Earth with only her Dragon for company.

Over all of that, though, was the memory of the Master being finally taken down by the power of what could only have been prayer.

And she’d been the one to orchestrate that plan.

Still, lying on the bed in the plain room she’d been assigned by Copley’s assistant as she waited until the right time to go sneaking around had Martha wanting to fidget in apprehension.  She needed to be up and _doing_ something, not pretending that everything was just fine and dandy.  It was only the idea that her friends and boyfriend were watching from the Hub through the contact lenses that were beginning to irritate her eyes that kept Martha on the bed, still in the silence of the Pharm, awaiting her chance. To remind her, random words would pop up in her field of vision every once in a while, mostly Tom attempting to reassure her that they were still there.

It hadn’t been all that hard to memorise the way she needed to follow in order to get to the Administration office, where she knew there had to be computer access.  Her fingers were actually itching to get a hold of a keyboard and discover just what Copley was hiding.  Not that she’d have a chance at hacking; no, she would leave that up to the expert, Toshiko Sato.  Martha had the utmost respect in Toshiko’s abilities, being a witness to the technological magic she could wield like some sort of concert pianist at a sold-out recital. 

If she had to admit it, Martha was just a little bit jealous of Toshiko. 

Still, she loved the Japanese woman like a sister, so that tiny feeling of envy would never get in the way of their friendship.

Glancing at her watch again, Martha smiled as she saw that it was past midnight.  Everyone should be asleep by now, and from the comment that flashed across her contacts Jack must have felt the same way.  The sudden rush of adrenaline was welcome as she got up out of bed and crept across to the door.  Opening it, Martha saw that the coast was clear. 

She snuck out into the hallway.  Now, if she was remembering correctly, she needed to go left, and then find the stairwell down to the ground floor.  The words, _be careful,_ was there and gone across the lenses by the time she’d reached the intersection where the stairs exited onto the first storey.  She held her hand up, making the symbol for _okay_ to acknowledge the warning, and then she headed downward, keeping close to one of the walls and her mind on high alert for anyone entering the stairway.

So far, so good.

Martha made it downstairs.  Her heart was pounding so loudly she wondered why it wasn’t bringing any of the grey-sweatered guards down onto her as she tiptoed down the hall toward the door she was searching for. 

Administration _,_ the small sign read.

The only problem was, there was a keypad beside the door, and she didn’t know the entry code.

The words, _look closer,_ floated across her vision.

It had to have been Toshiko, needing to see the pad in order to break the code, although how she was going to do that Martha didn’t know.  She obligingly leaned toward the pad, her ears peeled for any noise that might be a guard or employee moving about.  The last thing she needed to do was to get caught.

The number ‘4’ appeared in her eyesight.

Martha couldn’t help the grin.  Toshiko was awesome, and she would have to tell her friend when she saw her next.

Just as she was punching that into the keypad, Martha heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps.

She couldn’t help it; she turned toward the noise, and could just make out the beam of a flashlight just around the corner at the end of the hallway.

Martha knew though that she couldn’t move.  Her best bet would be for Toshiko to crack the code on the door, and so she turned back just as the numbers ‘1-0-4’ appeared.

Her hands were shaking slightly as she input those numbers as well.  How many more would it be?  Martha really had no idea.  All she knew was that Toshiko had to hurry, and she didn’t dare speak to warn them back at the Hub that she was about to be caught.

Just as she was beginning to freak out a little and try to come up with a cover story to explain her presence, a ‘0’ flashed in the contact lenses.

She probably hit the keypad a bit harder than was necessary, but once that number was in the door clicked open.  Martha shoved into the room beyond, closing the door behind her and leaning against it, waiting for the guards to pass.

She listened as the footsteps moved out in the hallway and away from her hiding place without the guards checking the knob.

Martha couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her, as she relaxed a little.  Hopefully no one would come behind the guards and check to see if the room was empty.  There was no way she could explain how she got into the office without giving everything away.

The room was just what it said on the door: an administration office.  There were filing cabinets and shelves, along with a mass-produced desk and chair, a computer sitting on the top next to a multi-line phone and an inbox that looked like it hadn’t been emptied in several days.

Martha went over to the desk, knocking the mouse in order to wake up the monitor.  A menu screen appeared, and taking a chance Martha clicked on the icon marked “Management.”

A login box came up, and Martha sat down in the chair somewhat heavily.  There was no way she could get into the system without some serious help.

But then, one of the smartest people she knew was sitting on the other end of the transmitting contact lenses.

_Go to Network._

Martha smiled once more. This she could do.

Finding Network was simple, and she clicked on it as she was directed.

Once that was open, the word _Firewall_ appeared.

Martha squinted slightly, but concentrated once more as she opened the Firewall tab.  She was calming down now, the adrenaline wearing off as she worked under Toshiko’s instructions.

_Proxy Connections._

The moment Martha clicked on that, the curser suddenly jumped out of her control.  She released the mouse in surprise, rolling the chair back a bit as Toshiko manipulated the files within the computer.

_I have control._

Well, Martha thought that wasn’t quite necessary to say, but she appreciated the reassurance.

She avidly watched as her friend worked her magic on the computer files, and it wasn’t long before a single image popped up, along with text that Martha busily read, all the while her heart dropping as she realised just what she was seeing.

They called it the Mayfly.

It really was quite beautiful, even if it was deadly. 

From what she was reading, it wasn’t even the Mayfly’s fault.  Copley had done something to it, made it into a parasite, in his quest for the ultimate cure-all.  She couldn’t help but be angry and appalled at the man’s treatment of the poor alien. 

She didn’t get to see all the file, however.  The words, _get out of there,_ appeared, and really she didn’t need to be told twice.  She could get caught up on everything when she got back to the Hub.

Martha was up and out of the chair at once, making her way to the door and opening it slightly, checking to see if everything was clear.  Everything was quiet, so she crept back out into the hallway, heading toward where she remembered the front door was.

Suddenly, red lights began flashing, and the woman from her test – Martha recalled her name, Plummer – began talking over the speaker system that as so well hidden Martha couldn’t work out where the speakers even were.

_“Break out in Zone A. All patrols to Zone A immediately.”_

 What the hell was that?

There wasn’t even a choice.

No way was Martha going to be able to escape with all that racket going on.  She did the only thing she could do: duck into the nearest room and wait for the ruckus to die down, and then try to get out once it was all calm again.

Or…she could sneak out the window that was in the storeroom she’d hidden within.

_What are you doing?_

Really, what did they think?  Surely they could hear the alarms over the contact lenses and figure it out.

_“Breakout in Zone A,”_ Copley’s assistant went on, her voice crackling slightly over the PA system. _“Break out in Zone A. All patrols proceed with extreme caution. The escaped creature is extremely dangerous.”_

Now that announcement got Martha’s attention.

She had to see what was going on.  Looking out of the window, Martha could make out guards rushing by, several of them in what closely resembled tactical gear.  Whatever it was that was loose, it couldn’t be good for Copley and his people.

Maybe she could help whatever it was.  She had to try.

Martha unlocked the window and raised the sash, glad it was in good condition and didn’t make any noise as she lifted it.  It was easy to get the screen out, and before she knew it Martha was on the ground, running alongside the path that led down the building, her eyes darting around as she tried to watch her surroundings for either what had escaped, or for security guards.

The last thing she needed was to be caught outside when she should have been safe in her room.

And then, her way was blocked by a chain link fence. 

There was a gate in the fence, but there was another keypad, and while Martha knew that Toshiko would have been able to crack it as well, she knew that Jack wouldn’t let her do it.  Because, on the other side of the fence, was the area that Ianto had told her she didn’t need to get in to.

The one with all the alien life signs.

There were voices approaching, and the familiar sound of boots on gravel.  Martha glanced around, and the only place with any cover were bushes just near the gate.  She had no choice; she darted into the bushes, crouching down and hoping that whoever was coming wouldn’t see her in the darkness.

A group of security approached the gate. Each member of the team was heavily armed, which made Martha even more determined to get to whatever had escaped first before they could kill it.  She had no doubt that they would, if they couldn’t recapture it, and she needed to prevent that at all costs. 

“We’re at section twelve now,” one of the guards – it must have been the leader – said into what had to have been some sort of comm.

He had a type of key card.  He swiped it through the reader next to the keypad, and the gate snicked open.  “Come on,” the man said, flinging open the gate the rest of the way, to make room for his small squadron of men and women.  “Let’s get this thing.”

The guards were barely out of sight before Martha was running toward the closing gate.  She caught it before it shut and made her way into the secured area.  In front of her, she could hear the man giving orders, and she was faintly glad to hear that the mandate was to sedate and capture.  Still, she wanted to see if she could help it, knowing that Torchwood would do anything in its power to save it from Copley and whatever the hell he was doing to it, because it couldn’t be good.

_What the fuck are you doing?_

The question obscured her vision for a second.  The typist was most likely Owen; he certainly did like to curse. 

However, Martha stayed silent, creeping forward, not wanting to draw attention to herself as she made her way deeper into the complex.  The buildings here were older, constructed of red brick instead of the pale stone of the main house, and they appeared almost rundown, as if Copley didn’t really care how they looked to the outside world. And maybe he didn’t, since Martha doubted many of his guests or subjects made it this far.

There was an alley between two of the buildings, and it was there that Martha was discovered.

Only it wasn’t by the guards.

A sudden sharp pain lanced through her eyes, and Martha cried out, needing to get the contacts out of her eyes as quickly as she could.  She got one out, and then the other, wondering just what had caused that burst of blinding agony.  Yes, she wasn’t used to wearing contacts but this was something different, as if there had been some sort of feedback through the lenses.  She tossed them away, not even considering what Jack would say when he found out she’d lost his little gadgets.

It was then she heard the growl.

Blinking away the tears from her eyes, Martha saw it.

It was about the size of a human, with large gossamer wings on an insect-like body.  It looked like an enormous mosquito, like one of the tiny bugs that had flown out of Marie Thomas, but there was something distinctly alien about that. 

It was the Mayfly.

Martha backed away slowly, not wanting to draw attention to herself.  Her previous adrenaline rush was back, but this time it was a definite flight or fight response to the alien that was chittering in front of her, compound eyes seeming to focus on her as she tried to calmly move out of range of it, not wanting to antagonise it any more than it already was.

The Mayfly had been beautiful in the image she’d seen, but seeing it in person was something else entirely.  The wings glittered in the uncertain light of the alleyway, flickering as they beat in the still, cold air, raising the body of the alien up and off its six, stick-like legs. The body was in three sections: head, thorax, and an abdomen that was almost as long as the first two sections combined.

It was beautiful, and oh so deadly.

Martha gasped.  She couldn’t help it. 

The Mayfly moved quickly, and Martha darted behind some rubbish bins in order to get out of its way.  She watched as it scuttled into an open door, and she knew there was no way she could save it on her own.  She’d have to escape and get back to Torchwood, and then Jack could lead the team back to get it and whatever else Copley had hidden. 

She stepped out from behind the bins in order to watch it disappear.

That was her mistake.

There was a sharp feeling in the side of her neck, and Martha had just enough time to turn around and see the security guard lower his gun before her vision went dark and she collapsed onto the cold concrete.

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

 

**_2 October 2008_ **

 

Everyone in the Hub had a ringside seat to Martha’s adventure at the Pharm.

Ianto could tell just how upset his mate was by the stiff stance and the flexing of his jaw.  A lot of people found Jack hard to read, but their intimacy had given the dragon an inside glance at all of Jack’s tells.  Jack wasn’t happy at all with Martha going off plan, and he was trying to hide it.

It wasn’t working; but then, Ianto was just as upset as Jack was.

They should have expected this.  Martha knew the importance of working to plan, after all they’d had to do that if the Doctor would have had any chance of defeating the Master.  But she could also improvise with the best of them, and Ianto should have realised the moment that alarm had gone off at the Pharm that Martha would try something to get a closer look at what was going on.

Still, he was going to give Martha a piece of his mind when they got her out of there.

“What was that?” Jack demanded, staring at the blank screen that had once shown them the inside of the Pharm from Martha’s point of view.

Toshiko was frantically tapping at her keyboard.  “Some sort of radiation surge?”  She growled. “I can’t get her back!”

“We need to get her out of there,” Tom said softly.  He was worried about Martha, and it was written all over his face.  Still, he was acting calm throughout this ordeal, and Ianto had to give him credit for that.  If it had been his mate trapped in that compound, the dragon would have come out to play. 

There was still a very good chance that it might yet happen.

“That place is swamped with security,” Toshiko pointed out.  “If we go in there without a plan we could risk her life.”

Owen opened his mouth to speak, but he was diverted by Jack, who asked, “What did we manage to pull from their server?”

Toshiko gave up on trying to somehow reactivate the contacts and began pulling up the information that had been transferring from the Pharm’s servers and onto their mainframe.  She didn’t look happy doing so, but there was no choice…they needed to know what was going on within the Pharm, and this was their only chance of discovering that.

Yes, Ianto didn’t want to leave Martha in there any longer than necessary, but at the same time they needed to find out what they were dealing with.

“Are there any other test subjects out there we don’t know about?” Rhys asked.  When he got looks from the entire team, he shrugged. “They’ve killed people before…what’s to stop them from going after anyone else?”

Patrick was grinning. “And we can use whoever it is to get into the Pharm!”

A menu came up on Toshiko’s monitor, and she quickly navigated to the RESET prompt, which brought up a list of photos and names. 

“There we are…” Jack leaned over Toshiko’s shoulder, reading aloud, “Meredith Roberts…that’s the victim from earlier…Marie Thomas…Barry Leonard…wait…” He squinted slightly.  “Do we have a victim yet named Elin Morgan?”

“Not that I know of,” Owen answered.

Another window popped up, and Toshiko asked, “Who’s BD?” She typed in another command, and the box expanded.  “Billy Davis… and what does Executive Actions mean?” 

“Old CIA term for assassinations,” Patrick answered.  He looked slightly uncomfortable at knowing that precise piece of information. “My Mom used to do wetworks for them and a lot of her missions were classified that way.”

Ianto recalled that from the extensive background check they’d run on Patrick when they’d gotten his CV across Jack’s desk earlier in the year.  It was something he hadn’t known about the man from their adventures during that Year, and he’d been a little surprised to see it written so baldly in Patrick’s records.  Apparently his mother had made a name for herself in intelligence circles as someone to go to if a particularly nasty assassination was required.

“So the Pharm are running their own hit man?” Tom was shocked. “That is kind of unusual for a medical research facility.”  He was obviously even more worried for Martha now that this had come up.

Ianto couldn’t blame him.  “Find out where Elin Morgan is,” she told Toshiko, resting her hand on his shoulder.  “Patrick and I are going after her.  If she’s the last victim on the list, then this Billy Davis would most likely have been sent out for her.”

The ex-FBI agent grinned.  “Action at last.  Let me get my guns.”  He left the rest of the team to get ready.

 

**********

 

Ianto was driving the Torchwood SUV, wishing he could simply fly to their destination.  However, it was fairly certain they’d be bringing at least Elin Morgan in…and hopefully this Billy Davis as well, which meant they’d need the vehicle to transport them back to the Hub.

Patrick had been somewhat disappointed at not getting the chance to ride on the dragon’s back, but Ianto had promised him he’d get his chance at some point.

He was in the passenger seat, punching something into the SUV’s GPS.  “Tosh’s got us Billy Davis’ cell phone,” Patrick explained, “and I’ve got his signal up and running.”  He paused.  “It looks like he’s heading in Elin Morgan’s general direction.”

The dragon swore, pressing his foot down harder on the accelerator.  While he technically knew that Elin Morgan was dead from the moment she let Copley inject her with Reset, he still felt the need to at least attempt to get there in time to save her from Davis.  Being able to catch Davis in the act would be a bonus.

At least Ianto was doing something.  He felt bad at leaving everyone else in the Hub, especially Tom, who was nearly insane with worry for Martha.  Still, the doctor had faith in the woman he loved, and it was his seeming calm façade that was helping in keeping things under control…for now.  All he – and the others – could do was wait for Ianto and Patrick to complete their errand, because Billy Davis was the only way into the Pharm’s compound without a bloodbath.

“We’ll get him,” Patrick murmured.

Ianto glanced in his direction.  There was an understanding in his dark eyes, and the dragon was grateful to his friend and teammate in that moment.

“You know we will,” Patrick went on, his knowing expression morphing into a sly grin.  “We’re the good guys…we always win.”

“Goddess,” Ianto sighed, “you’re as bad as Jack.  You’ve definitely been hanging around with him too long.”

Patrick laughed, and that seemed to break a bit of the tension that had risen.  Ianto was glad of it, because he needed to keep his mind in the game.  Yes, of course he didn’t stop worrying about Martha, as there was no telling what she was going through at the Pharm, but they needed to stop Copley’s assassin from getting to Elin Morgan. 

Then, they could convince Billy Davis to get them into the Pharm without raising the alarm.

Ianto didn’t have any doubt that they would be able to do just that.  He knew his mate; knew that Jack had once spent time as an interrogator, and had tricks to get people to reveal their secrets.  The dragon also knew that Jack would do anything in his power to save Martha, just as he had her family.  Also it helped that everyone in the Hub would be motivated to get the man to talk.  In Ianto’s opinion, Davis didn’t stand a chance.

Elin Morgan’s flat was in a building that had recently been renovated, and had updated security features that didn’t seem to have stopped Davis from getting in, judging from the empty SUV that was parked around the corner and was registered to the assassin according to Toshiko.  It had Patrick rolling his eyes, muttering about ‘amateurs’ and ‘being obvious’ as he and the dragon entered the building using the lock opener device that had come through the Rift years ago.  It also allowed them to by-pass most of the security as well, while Toshiko took care of any CCTV that was monitoring the front stoop.  Over the comms she also reported that she had footage of Davis going in about two minutes ago, and that news had the pair of them racing up the stairs toward Elin Morgan’s flat.

They got there just in time.

The door to the flat was ajar, and Ianto actually let Patrick go first, since the American was trained at intrusions; however, he kept right behind his friend, stun gun in hand, as Patrick cleared the front room and made his way into the rear of the flat.

Elin Morgan was obviously fond of clutter.  Ianto shuddered slightly at the mess as he and Patrick moved together, Patrick’s own gun – the deadly sort, with bullets and all – upraised and leading the way.  The man moved with cat-like grace as he stepped around a single trainer and a coffee table overflowing with magazines, heading toward the bedroom door that was also slightly open.

Once there, Patrick took a deep breath and made a hand gesture that had Ianto putting his back against the wall.  Then, once the dragon was in position, the ex-FBI agent literally kicked the door open.  “Hands up!” he barked, aiming his weapon at the man who was leaning over the prone figure on the bed.

Billy Davis was an obvious thug, broad and large and running to fat, and dressed in a dark coat and jeans.  He held a syringe in one hand and some sort of aerosol dispenser in the other, and Ianto guessed that was the reason why Elin Morgan wasn’t trying to escape. 

The assassin looked into the barrel of Patrick’s gun, and did the smart thing…he raised both hands over his head. 

Ianto moved past Patrick and took the syringe from Davis’ hand, followed by the dispenser, and then promptly stunned him.  It felt really good.

“Damnit,” Patrick moaned, “I wanted to shoot him a little!”

If anyone could shoot someone _just a little_ , Ianto realised, it would have been Patrick Delaware.

Ianto put the items he’d taken from Davis into his coat pocket, the rolled the unconscious man off of Elin Morgan, where he’d fallen onto the bed.  He then touched his comm, “Jack, we have Billy Davis.”

_“Good,”_ his mate answered.  _“Bring him in.”_

Patrick had put his gun away, and was leaning over Elin Morgan. The young woman’s eyes were moving in panic, and there were quiet whimpers coming from her frozen lips. “We have him,” he was trying to soothe her, “you’re safe.”

Ianto didn’t want to disagree with him, but Owen and Martha had made it quite clear what had happened to Marie Thomas, and he knew that fate was in store for this poor girl.  There was just no way to stop it; the Mayfly’s larva would have progressed too far to be stopped.  All they could hope to do was quarantine her and make sure none of the alien insects got out to infect anyone else.

“We’re going to take you somewhere safe,” Patrick went on.  “I know you can’t move right now, but you can trust us.  We’ll take care of you.”

He sounded so sincere, and Ianto was glad that he was taking the initiative to calm her down.  Just how terrified had she been, waking up with a complete stranger standing over her, and then being unable to defend herself?  Ianto couldn’t imagine.

And things were going to get worse for her.  Ianto just wished he could somehow make it easier for her.

“Can you carry her?” he asked.

Patrick nodded.  “Do you have him?”

To answer his question, the dragon hefted the dead weight of the assassin onto his shoulder.  He raised an eyebrow, daring Patrick to say anything.

Patrick just shook his head, and picked Elin Morgan up carefully in a bridal carry. 

Together, they left the flat, Ianto making sure the front door was locked behind them.  Not that Elin would ever be returning, but at least her family wouldn’t have to worry about all of her belongings having been stolen while they mourn their daughter.

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

**_2 October 2008_ **

 

“Who the fuck are you?” Bill Davis demanded, trying to get loose from the chair that he’d been tied to.

Owen glared down at the man.  When Ianto and Patrick had brought Davis and Elin Morgan in, Jack had immediately taken charge of their prisoner, taking him down to the cells in order to interrogate him, an almost evil smirk on his lips as he outlined what was going to be done with him.  Owen had completely agreed, and then had had Patrick carry Elin Morgan down to the lab, where he made her as comfortable as possible in a small sealed room that was there in case of infection.  There wasn’t a damned thing he could do for her, and so he’d sedated her, hoping she would sleep through the agony that would come with the Mayflies hatching.

Then, he’d joined Jack, Patrick, and Ianto down in the cells to wait for their prisoner to wake up.   Owen was barely holding it together, so angry he felt like he could tear Billy Davis apart with his bare hands.  What the Pharm had done was fucking unconscionable, and all the medic wanted to do was get Martha back and then make Copley pay.

This man would be their ticket in.

“It doesn’t matter who we are,” Jack growled, sounding more like Ianto in dragon mode than a human being.  “We want to know what you do for the Pharm.”

Davis was sweating and jerking against the handcuffs that kept him tied to the chair.  “I got terrible guts,” he moaned, “I dunno what it is…”

“Guilty conscience,” Patrick snapped. “Try confessing…it’s good for the soul.”

“Get stuffed!” Davis snarled, still fighting against his restraints.

“Okay,” Jack agreed, “we’ll do this the hard way.”

One of the metal airlock doors lining the wall slammed open, and Ianto appeared, struggling against the Weevil he’d prepared.  Janet liked the dragon; not as much as she liked Owen, but then Owen was partial to the Weevil and would often find himself outside her cell, just watching her.  She was used to both of them, and it was decided that Ianto would be the one to handle her in this situation.

Owen liked to think Janet would have agreed to help them if she could understand.  Instead, they’d had to attach her to a chain that was bolted to the wall of the cell, to keep her from attacking and trying to escape.  Not that he thought she would, since she was practically housebroken now, but there was always the chance that she might take the opportunity. 

Ianto held onto the chain as Janet darted toward Davis, growling and showing her predator’s teeth in a snarl that echoed off the stone walls.

“Jesus Christ!” Davis screamed.  “What the...?” He stopped being coherent at that point.

Janet reached the end of the chain before he could actually reach Davis, but it was a close thing.  Owen had to wonder how Ianto had estimated just the correct length to put the Weevil close enough that she was practically salivating all over the assassin and yet distant enough that she couldn’t really do any damage.  He had to admit, it was a truly terrifying sight, with Janet so up close and personal.  He had first-hand experience at how bad a Weevil’s breath was, so he was surprised Davis wasn’t gagging.

“They have a tendency to act up,” Jack said, in a perfectly calm way that belied the anger in his eyes. 

“I’m losing her,” Ianto added, matter-of-factly.  He wasn’t really trying to pull Janet back. 

“I’d be talking if I were you,” Patrick added.  He had the same gleam in his eyes that Jack did, and Owen thought he must pretty much look the same as his teammates.

The sharp scent of urine filled the confined space, and the front of Billy Davis’ trousers gained a wet spot.  Owen couldn’t help but grin.

“Please!” Davis cried out, flinching away from the Weevil’s gnashing jaws.

“Have something to say?” Jack taunted, his face right next to Davis’.

“Yeah, yeah! Whatever you want!  Just get it away from me! Get it off me!”

Owen was a bit disappointed that it hadn’t taken much to make Davis talk, but at the same time he knew they couldn’t be wasting their time when Martha was in danger.

Ianto began towing Janet back toward her cell.  The Weevil fought him, but Owen could tell it wasn’t with her full strength.  Janet wanted to go back; that was her home now, and she really didn’t want to leave it.

She allowed Ianto to follow her into the cell, where Owen knew the dragon would be unhooking the chain and letting her loose.  He thought he caught the slight sound of Ianto singing something, but his attention was fully on Davis as Jack rested his hands on the man’s shoulders, holding him still.

“Okay,” he crooned. “Billy, you've been on a killing spree.  Why?”

Davis was practically hyperventilating in his panic.  “I work for the Pharm! They'd been giving people this Reset drug. But there were these side effects - parasites or something. They were gonna die anyway, so I  
had to get rid of them before any weird symptoms showed up ... in public.”  Most of his words were running together out of sheer terror, but they could all understand what he was saying.

It was exactly what they’d all assumed.  That Reset was a failure in that it would permanently heal anyone without disastrous consequences. It was a laudable goal – creating something that would greatly increase the quality of life in human beings – but no one can do that at the cost of others. 

That’s not even counting the poor Mayfly in all this.  From the files that Toshiko had pulled from the Pharm’s servers, the alien had been an innocent corrupted by Copley’s experiments.  What he’d done…it was criminal.  Owen, who had once admired the man, now only felt disgust. 

And what made it all even worse, was that Copley was now cleaning up after himself before getting ready to start a new round of trials.

He had to be stopped.

“We’re going to get into the Pharm, Billy,” Jack was saying, “and you’re going to help us.”

“Sure,” the man stammered, “sure, whatever you say…” He suddenly gasped, throwing his head back and an expression of agony taking over his ugly face.  “My stomach…oh my god…”

“What the hell?” Patrick cursed.

Owen wanted to know the answer to that as well.  It was apparent that Davis wasn’t faking; he was really in pain.  He was about to examine the man when a gout of blood erupted from his mouth.

“Whoa!” the medic exclaimed, ducking back instinctively.

Jack had done the same, but in a heartbeat he was back at Davis’ side, trying to hold the thrashing man’s head immobile, to keep him steady.  “Owen!”

That galvanised the medic into motion.  He pulled over a tray of medical items, having brought them down with them, the idea being that the sight of them might intimidate Davis if somehow Janet didn’t work.  The problem was, he wasn’t exactly sure where to start.

Davis began convulsing, choking on the blood he was spraying everywhere.  “We need him alive!” Jack ordered.

“Yeah, I know!” Owen barked.  “I’m flying blind here!”

He could feel every eye on him as he began palpating Davis’ abdomen.  The pain had started in his stomach, so it was a place to start.

There was something moving under the skin.

Owen wanted to gag.  He could guess what it was, and he was grossed out.  He’d seen a lot in his time in Torchwood, but that didn’t mean he was completely jaded about suffering and the causes of it.  At that point he honestly wanted to help Davis, knowing that there was a young woman in a room in the Hub who would be suffering the same thing soon enough.

There was only one thing he could do.

He picked up the singularity scalpel that he’d added with the kit on the table.

“That thing doesn’t work!” he heard Ianto call out behind him.

“It’s the only chance he’s got!” Owen shouted back.  He aimed the device at the shuddering assassin, turning it on and turning the knob that he’d figured out was the control for the scalpel. 

In the small screen, he could make out the thrashing form of a Mayfly inside Davis’ stomach.

Owen was sickened, but there was this small voice at the back of his mind that was saying that turnabout was fair play, that this man had murdered innocent people just because they’d been infected by this very same alien’s larva.  In Owen’s mental opinion it was karma, plain and simple.

“I can get it out of him,” he promised.  “I have the calibrations right!”

_I think,_ he didn’t add.

Davis’ movements were slowing, and Owen knew he only had seconds.  He held his breath as he activated the singularity scalpel.

There was a loud whine, and Davis’ guts were suddenly splattering all over the cell area, as well as the wriggling Mayfly, which hit the concrete floor with a sickening thud.

“Shit!” Patrick exclaimed in horror, accompanied by Ianto’s wordless shout of dismay. 

Owen slammed the scalpel back down to the table, grabbing a container from under the table that was used for medical waste.  A pair of tongs was next, and Owen was grabbing the still alive Mayfly and stuffing it into the container, sealing the lid.

His heart was pounding a mile a minute.  Owen didn’t want to think that that could have been either him or Martha; if they hadn’t been wearing protective masks at the time Marie had died they could have easily been infected.  Now, as he stood and stared at the corpse of Billy Davis, he felt like puking.

“Are you sure about those calibrations?” Jack asked, his voice a bit weak.  Owen glanced over at his boss, noting the blood that had splattered all over the immortal’s blue shirt.  He didn’t want to look at his own clothing. 

“That could have been me or Martha,” Owen whispered as the plastic container rattled at his feet, the Mayfly trying to get out of its prison.  His mind chittered that little fact at him, and he just wanted to ignore it but he couldn’t.  “He must have breathed in a larva from one of his victims…”

There was a hand on his shoulder, and judging from the heat it was putting out it had to have been Ianto’s.  The dragon was offering Owen his wordless support, and he wasn’t too ashamed to lean into that touch, accepting the silent comfort.  He was shaking just a little, coming down from the fear that had been surging through him. He had long known that Torchwood would be the death of him, but when faced with it like that, it was hard to accept.

“I’ll take care of the body,” Ianto murmured. 

“We need to come up with a new way of getting into the Pharm,” Jack added.  There wasn’t an ounce of recrimination in the statement, and Owen was pitifully grateful for that.  Jack wasn’t blaming him for not being able to save Davis, but then there really wasn’t all that much he could have done.

The scalpel should have worked.  The medic had thought he’d figured it out.  Maybe Davis had been too far gone…but yeah, he’d been certain he’d had it right. 

All Owen knew was he couldn’t risk using it on another living person until he was positive it would do the job. 

“Let’s get up to the Hub,” Jack went on.  “We’ll find something in the Pharm records that can help us.”

Owen let himself be led back up, looking over his shoulder as the dragon carefully unlocked the handcuffs that had kept Davis in the chair and began cleaning up the mess Owen had made.

 

**********

 

No one said anything when the rejoined the rest of the team, for which Owen was glad. 

Intellectually, he knew they wouldn’t.  There would have been no way to save Davis once the Mayfly wanted to come out of the man’s body.  The scalpel had been the last hope, and it hadn’t worked.  Owen was beginning to rethink ever using the thing again, even as he was putting it into his go bag.  He wasn’t really considering what he was doing; only dwelling on his failure.

If it had worked on Davis, he would have tried it with Elin Morgan, who was asleep in that quarantine room just off the lab.  It would have been the way to save her once her own batch of baby Mayflies had started killing her for real.  And it would happen soon, of that Owen had no doubt.

Toshiko was still at her workstation, going through the data from the Pharm.  Rhys was also working at his own desk, and he’d already proven to the team that he could pull out patterns from information and put them together in a logical manner.  Owen was glad that Jack and Ianto had hired him.  He was a good bloke, his bluff Welsh exterior hiding a keen and intelligent mind.  He was so much more than what Gwen had thought of him, and to be honest Rhys was much too good for her, especially after she’d cheated on him.

Not that Owen had been innocent in that.  He’d gone after Gwen with a single-mindedness that he did with all his conquests.  Yet, Gwen could have turned him down, and she hadn’t, which spoke of her feelings toward the guy.  Sure, she might have loved Rhys, but she hadn’t respected him from Owen’s point of view.

Still, Rhys had actually forgiven Owen for what had occurred, which showed that he was either an idiot, or a really good man.  From the evidence since Rhys had started working for Torchwood, he certainly wasn’t an idiot.

Ianto joined them, and was heading toward the autopsy bay – probably to get a gurney to transport Davis down to the vaults – when Toshiko stopped him.  “What are you going to do with Davis’ body?”

Ianto came up behind her; the other members of the team having left her to work and not distract her by hovering.  “I’m going to freeze it until Owen’s had a chance to do a post-mortem.  Why?”

There was a smug little smile on her face as she said, “I think I know a way he can still help us getting into the Pharm.”

Owen was intrigued, so he stepped up next to Dragon Boy to look at her monitor.  His eyebrows went up when he realised what he was seeing.

Ianto actually looked awestruck and horrified at the same time. 

“Clever, huh?” she asked.

“Oh, you are warped on the inside,” the dragon answered.  Owen could hear the pride in his words. “How do you think of these things?”

With that, Ianto turned and left the main Hub, as Toshiko said, “I’ll take that as a compliment.” She did that little head cock that Owen knew from experience meant she was pleased with herself. 

In his mind, she was perfectly within her rights to feel that way.  Her plan was perfect, if a little macabre.

It would work.

 


	14. Chapter 14

 

**_2 October 2008_ **

 

Martha awoke slowly, her head feeling as if it was stuffed full of cotton wool.

The first thing she noticed was that the lights were too bright, and she flinched away slightly.  She tried to rub at her eyes, but her arms wouldn’t move.

It was a familiar sensation, being tied down.

She very nearly panicked, but managed to keep control.  She blinked to clear her eyesight, and found herself in what looked like a combination medical suite and laboratory.  There were sensors attached to her skin, the leads going up to monitors that seemed to be recording her vital signs.  Her forehead was itching, which led her to believe there were sensors stuck there was well.

What she was laying on was hard, and her arms were spread out from her body, strapped down to rests that were pulled away from the bench she was on.  It was cold; goosebumps raised along her chest and shoulders, and she realised that her leather jacket was missing, leaving her in her tank top.  She felt exposed, and it wasn’t a pleasant sensation at all.

She flatly refused to have any sort of flashback to that Year, of being helpless and confined.  Martha needed to keep a clear head, in order to be ready for whatever it was that was going to be done with her.

Still, it was hard.  She’d been left alone, which meant she had time to think about the mess she was in. This time, there was no Patrick willing to give up his cover in order to rescue her; her Dragon wasn’t there, tearing down the very walls in order to get to her.  But they had to be coming, right?  They’d seen what had happened to her, and they were on the way, and this time they had a whole team to back them up.  Jack would be with them this time as well.  And, if Martha knew one thing, it was that there was no stopping Jack Harkness, especially when there was a Jones involved.

The door opened, and she craned her head around to watch as Copley and his assistant, Plummer, entered. Copley looked entirely too pleased with himself, and that couldn’t be a good sign at all.

She began struggling.  “Let me go!  You have no right to keep me here!”  She was going to play innocent to the hilt.  There was no way she was going to give anything away.  “I’m here as a clinical volunteer.  You can’t treat me like this!”

“You lied to us, Samantha.”  Copley shook his head, trying to give an air of being disappointed in her.  Well, the only person that could make Martha feel like a naughty child was her mother, and Copley had nothing on Francine Jones.

“Can I just explain?” Martha pleaded.  “I got bored stuck in that room, so I went for a walk, and first that thing attacked me, and then your heavies assaulted me.”  She struggled against the straps holding her down. 

Copley removed his suit jacket, and slipped on a pristine lab coat.  “You don't owe any loyalty to Torchwood. Jack Harkness has treated you in a criminally irresponsible way.”

Well, shit.  That wasn’t good at all. 

Still Martha wasn’t about to give Copley the satisfaction of admitting to anything.  “Who?” she asked, slipping confusion into her tone.  Thank God she’d become such a good actress, because she really needed to play for time.  “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Don't bother,” Copley sighed. “This is not an interrogation. Torchwood is irrelevant to us, not even a nuisance. In fact, they've done us quite a favour putting you in here.”  He pulled up a stool, taking a seat next to her.  “We've analysed your test results and you really are something special.”  He gave up the disappointed act, his expression quite pleased.  He was examining her like she was some sort of precious insect, to do with as he wanted, and Martha shivered under that gaze.  “Do you know what lymphocytes are, Samantha?”

Martha stared at him.  “A kind of white blood cell, part of the immune system.”  Of course she knew exactly what they were, being a trained doctor. 

This was when Copley was going to explain.  Martha wanted to be surprised that he was actually going to monologue at her, but then evil geniuses just had to share how brilliant they were.

Copley tugged a rolling cart over.  Martha could see a metal case on it if she twisted her neck just right.  Another shiver went through her, and she began praying to every deity she could think of that the cavalry would bust through the door and save her.  She knew exactly what was in that case, and she didn’t want to have a thing to do with it.

To her surprise it was Plummer who spoke first.  “Your lymphocytes are really quite interesting.”

“We've never seen anything like them before,” Copley said, “not in a human being at least.  Aliens are a different matter entirely.”

“Aliens?” Martha scoffed.  She put enough disbelief and scorn in that single word if would have made any other sort of villain angry. 

Not Copley, though.  He was just too excited to have her in his clutches.

It had really seemed like a good idea at the time to go undercover in the Pharm.  Now, she was regretting that decision with everything she had.

“You’re mad,” she added, for extra effect.

That didn’t work, either.

Copley opened the case and pulled out a clear plastic bag…an I.V. bag.  It was filled with a translucent pink fluid, and Martha’s heart began racing.  The monitor picked up on it, but Copley ignored it, handing the bag over to Plummer.  She held it like it was her very own child, and then began setting up the I.V., hanging the bag from a pole that had been just out of range of Martha’s vision.

“Your lymphocytes and God knows what other cells have mutated,” Plummer explained as she worked.

Martha knew; of course she knew.  She’d travelled with the Doctor long enough for it to have affected her genetic structure, down to her very cellular levels.  It had been a side effect, the Time Lord had explained, telling her that everyone who travelled through the Vortex was somehow fundamentally changed by it.  She hadn’t been bothered by it at the time, but now she was regretting not taking that into consideration when she’d volunteered to go into the Pharm. 

Still she had to know just how much they’d figured out.  “Mutated?  How?”  She let a little of the fear she was feeling get out, her words stuttering slightly.

“Under the influence of radiation,” Copley explained. “Radiation that's not found in the temporally stable environments on Earth.”

“I don’t know what that means,” she denied, even though she did.

Plummer was unwinding the I.V. tubing, and Martha kept staring at it as it slithered through her fingers.  There was no way she could avoid what was going to happen, not unless there was a heroic, last minute rescue.  She hoped that Tom had known just how she felt about him, and how she’d actually bought a ring just after she’d gotten home from Geneva, and that it was hidden in her underwear drawer back in his flat…surely he’d find it once he started clearing things up…

Martha blinked the tear from her eye, not wanting to show Copley any weakness.

“We've dealt with aliens before, but we have never come across anything as exotic as you.”  Martha didn’t like how he was regarding her at all. “A human being who's travelled in time and space. Tell me about it. How is that possible? What did you see out there?”

Did he really expect her to say anything?

“You really are mad,” she gasped.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  She was going to go to her grave and not give him the satisfaction of any sort of answer. 

She wasn’t going to lie to herself about this.  They were going to pump her full of Reset and experiment on her, treating her like a lab rat and not a human being.  There wasn’t a damned thing she could do about to, so she wasn’t going to admit to a single thing.

Copley sighed.  “Fine. If that's the way you want to play it.”  The disappointed expression was back, and Martha inwardly cheered to see it. “However it happened, it means you have a uniquely effective immune system, which is exactly what we need. We're developing a drug that's going to change the world, Sam. Incurable cancers, AIDS - all the scourges of the human race wiped out. A revolution in medicine and social welfare. Except it's still imperfect. I'd like to know what your funky lymphatic system makes of those imperfections.”

His eyes had lit up as he’d spoken, and Martha couldn’t help but be reminded of the Master at his most zealous.  Plummer was preparing the needle for the I.V., and Martha struggled as best she could.  She wasn’t about to make it easy on either of them.  “You keep that away from me!” she practically shrieked. 

What was truly scary was that Copley thought he was doing something good.  That his killing of innocent people in the name of some possible cure for all of the humanity’s illnesses was going to be remembered in history as a small price to pay for making the human race practically immune to every sort of sickness known and unknown.

The thing was, Martha had seen the future.  She had first-hand knowledge of humankind’s rise to a galactic power, and there was nothing at all about some miracle drug that would protect them all from possible infections. There had been leaps and bounds taken, but the common cold was still prevalent and there hadn’t been a cure in sight.

Copley’s experiments weren’t going to work. She was positive.

It was something that Jack would have known as well.

Martha was positive that Torchwood would stop Copley and his mad scheme.  Still, would it happen before she was killed by the same thing he’d hoped would save the world?

She had to have faith that her Dragon and Jack and the team would be coming for her.

Copley was smiling at her.  “But you volunteered.”

Plummer inserted the needle into Martha’s arm, and she wasn’t at all gentle in doing it. 

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

 

**_2 October 2008_ **

 

It was crowded in the back of Billy Davis’ SUV.

The entire team was present; Jack hadn’t wanted to leave anyone behind.  Ianto could understand; even with this plan of Toshiko’s, it was very possible that they’d need everyone to help with the security at the Pharm once they were able to get in…thanks to the set-up Toshiko had done to the vehicle they were all hiding inside.

At present, the technical expert was just behind the drivers’ seat, her tiny monitor showing the road in front of the SUV while she controlled the car’s movements.  Owen had said it was like watching a driving video game…he’d know, of course, having played enough of them when he was supposed to be working.

Of them all, Tom looked the most uncomfortable.  Patrick had given him a gun, and while Ianto knew that the man was familiar with them he also knew that he didn’t care for them at all.  During that Year, it had meant death to be caught with any sort of weapon, and the Toclafane had been overzealous in their enforcement of that law. 

He’d do anything to save Martha, though.  Ianto could trust that with his life.

It was quiet, the atmosphere oppressive.  Ianto was seated right next to Jack, his mate’s comforting warmth pressed against his side.  They’d had to remove the rear seats of the SUV in order for all of them to fit, and it was quite cramped quarters.  He could hear the breathing of his teammates and the rustling of clothes as they shifted, trying to settle their nerves as they drove toward the Pharm.

Toward Martha.

Ianto had to think she was alright.  To consider otherwise would have meant he’d failed her.  Certainly, he realised he couldn’t be blamed, but he felt that way anyway.  He’d backed Martha going into the Pharm undercover, basically putting her in danger.  He would blame himself if something did happen to her.

But he also knew that Martha was perfectly capable of handling most situations.  She’d done it before, and the dragon had witnessed it first-hand.  But there had also been times when she’d been in trouble, and he’d always been there to help her…the only time he’d almost failed was the one time that Patrick had been there.  He would be forever grateful to him for putting his life on the line in order to get her away from that warlord.

Not that he could ever say it.  Patrick had no idea just how important he was to them both because he didn’t remember any of it.

According to the camera they were coming up on the security gate leading into the compound.  Suddenly the tension in the air grew, and everyone went still as Toshiko braked the SUV to a halt at the gate.

Ianto found himself praying to the Great Dragons that this would work.

He had to admit that he and Rhys had done a decent job making it seem like Billy Davis was really driving the car. They’d taped his hands to the wheel just below the level of the window, so the guard wouldn’t be able to see it.  The dead man’s head wasn’t quite at a natural angle, but it had moved during one of the many lights they’d had to stop at.  Still he hoped it would pass muster.

And, apparently it did, as the guard waved them through when he recognised the supposed driver.

Gravel crunched under the wheels as Toshiko navigated their ride up to the main house.  She expertly parked the vehicle by the front stoop, Davis’ slack head finally falling forward to hit the steering wheel with a thump that barely avoided honking the horn.

The team spilled out of the SUV, Jack giving his orders as they spread out.  “Ianto, take Toshiko, Patrick, and Rhys and check out Zone A.  Tom, Owen…with me.  We’re going to find Martha.”

Ianto really wanted to be the one to go after Martha, but he recognised Jack’s need to make things right.  He was the one who’d had final authority on Martha going undercover, and he had to be the one to save her. 

He led his part of the team toward the gated area down the driveway.  Patrick was one step behind, his gun up and ready, while Rhys hung back with Toshiko, covering her as she had her PDA out and scanning the area.  They moved fluidly, as if they’d been doing this for years, and Ianto spared a single glance back just in time to see his mate and companions entering the main house.  He silently wished them luck, and then his attention changed back to his own mission.

Once they were at the gate, Toshiko came forward.  In seconds the keypad code was cracked and Rhys was pushing the gate open, Ianto and Patrick going in first.  This time, Ianto was carrying a deadly weapon, pointed in front as he and Patrick scanned the area visually.  Surprisingly, there weren’t any guards, but Toshiko once again had her scanner out and would warn them if anyone came close.

They had to duck for cover twice to avoid patrols.  Ianto was in full-on protective mode, needing to keep his friends safe all the while taking in the details of the building they were getting ready to breach.

Once again, he let Patrick take the lead as Toshiko unlocked the door for them.  The hallway beyond was empty, and using hand signals that the weapons expert had drilled them all on Patrick had them going up the corridor silently and in near military precision; Ianto behind him, Toshiko after him, and Rhys bringing up the rear. 

Rhys looked a bit nervous, but Ianto couldn’t blame him.  As the newest recruit to Torchwood, technically Rhys had just been cleared for field duty.  Until about two weeks ago he’d always been back at the Hub, performing overwatch on any missions they’d so far been called out on.  This was the man’s first major infiltration, and the dragon had to admit he was handling it pretty well.

The short hallway opened up into an almost warehouse-like building, a greenish light illuminating the space in an almost sickening shade.  There were crates and containers lining short walkways, along with what resembled medical and scientific equipment, some of it recognisable, others not so much.  In fact, Ianto would have sworn that there were bits of it that were alien in nature.

He made a mental note to do a thorough investigation of where the Pharm got their equipment.  If it was alien, then Torchwood needed to find out where it had come from and stop anything else from getting into unfriendly hands.

The woman who had been processing Martha during her testing was standing beside a tall, circular container.  She had a jar in one hand; the other was manipulating a valve on the side of the container, and a pink fluid was filling the jar. She hadn’t noticed them.

“Stop what you’re doing and put your hands up,” Patrick snapped, his gun pointing unerringly in her direction.

She looked surprised to see them, but she did as the ex-FBI agent ordered, lowering the jar to the ground and shutting off the flow of the liquid before raising her hands over her head. 

“Back away,” Patrick said, still keeping her under the watchful barrel of his gun.

The woman did so, and Toshiko stepped forward, her scanner aimed at the container.  Ianto saw her go pale, and she gasped his name.  Her hands, previously steady, had begun to shake.

Ianto joined her at the glass front of the tall cylinder.  His heart stopped as he saw what was inside.  “Bloody hell,” he gasped. 

Within the cylinder was the Mayfly.

A sickly moan echoed from the container.  The Mayfly was obviously aware of them; Ianto put his hand up to the glass and the alien moved toward it, one sharp claw-like leg touching the same place where Ianto’s hand was.

His heart went out to the poor creature.  To have fallen into the wrong hands, to have been tortured and changed beyond its nature…it was abhorrent to him.  How could humans be such a wonderful race, and yet at the same time be completely heartless to those creatures weaker than they were? 

It was at times such as this that the dragon despaired of humankind.  From Jack he’d learned that it wasn’t always going to be this way, and Ianto certainly had hope for the future, but such atrocities made him feel as if he was fighting a losing battle. 

He turned to glare at the woman, who was simply standing there, her expression defiant.  “This is what the Pharm is all about,” she answered his silent question. “We farm captive aliens for the exotic chemical products they metabolize.”

“And what the hell do you get from a Weevil?” Rhys’ loud question bounced off the rafters.

He was standing beside another tube, and from this distance Ianto could see the Weevil inside.  It was moving slowly, as if it was drugged. 

The dragon wanted nothing more than to tear this torture chamber down around their ears.  This was against any decency, this wholesale torment of innocent aliens. 

“Some pesticides, and a quite powerful chemical defoliant.” She didn’t look apologetic at all.  “But the Weevils aren't what's going to clinch the Nobel for us.” She motioned toward the cylinder containing the Mayfly. “The Mayfly, our feedstock for Reset. Given time, we'll tweak the product for human use, and then it'll be bigger than penicillin.”

The Mayfly kept staring at Ianto, its pain evident in its compound eyes.  The dragon tilted his head to once side; the Mayfly matched the movement.  It followed every gesture the dragon made. 

This was an intelligent being, and Copley was using it as an experimental subject.

The man was no better than Josef Mengele, the Nazi Angel of Death.

He touched the comm in his ear.  “Jack, I can give you a report on Zone A. They're holding dozens of creatures. They seem to be using them as test subjects.”  He couldn’t keep the horror out of his voice.

There was a pause at the other end, and then his mate said, _“Understood, Ianto. Tell Tosh to go for total shutdown.”_

The dragon acknowledged the order.  “Toshiko, you know what to do.”

The technical expert nodded sharply once.  She tucked the PDA into her pocket, then pulled the laptop case she’d had looped over her shoulder forward, and Rhys helped her as she unzipped the case and pulled out her ever-present laptop.  “I’m shutting this place down.”

“No, you can’t!” the woman cried.  “What we’re doing here is important – “

“What you’re doing here is evil,” Patrick retorted.  “Nothing is worth the wholesale torture of intelligent creatures. Now, shut up and move before I put a bullet in your brain.”

The woman pursed her lips and did as Patrick bid.  He nodded to Ianto, and then pushed the woman forward, back to the entrance of the building. 

“Rhys, go with him,” Ianto ordered.  “Clear the building.  Toshiko, can you get into the alarms for this place?”

“Already in,” she answered.

“Then go with Rhys and Patrick.  I’ll be right behind you.”

She looked as if she wanted to argue but she did as he asked. 

Ianto found himself staring at the Mayfly through the glass of its prison.  He could tell the alien wasn’t going to live for very long, but at least he could make certain it died with some form of dignity. 

He put his hand back on the glass.  The Mayfly’s leg bumped against it on the other side.

“I am sorry,” the dragon murmured. 

The Mayfly nodded in understanding. 

“Rest easy,” he whispered, sending a prayer to the Great Dragons to ease this creature’s suffering, and those of the others trapped in this hell. 

Then he turned and left the building, re-joining the team outside, his heart breaking for the poor beings he was helping to euthanise.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter after this one!

 

**_2 October 2008_ **

 

Owen followed Jack into the main building, Tom right beside him. 

They had memorised the layout back at the Hub, but it still took them a bit to find the lab where Copley was holding Martha.  As they burst in, it was immediately obvious that something was wrong.

Martha was laying spread eagled on a hard bench, strapped down at arms and legs.  She had electrodes taped all over her body, taking readouts of heartbeat, respiration and temperature…all of which were way out of normal range.  She was also attached to an I.V., from which a pink liquid was being dripped into a vein in her wrist.

Beside him, Tom made a noise like a wounded animal.

“Put your hands up!” Jack rapped, aiming right between Copley’s eyes.

Copley did as Jack told him, backing away from the bench where Martha was thrashing and whimpering in pain. 

Owen was by her side like a shot, stripping off his field pack and starting his preliminary examination of his friend.  Tom was on the other side of the bench, his hands hovering over Martha’s sweaty skin as if he didn’t know what to do.  And, for a trained trauma specialist, that was saying something.

“Take out the I.V.,” Owen directed his friend.  Tom, grateful for something to do, gently pulled the needle out of Martha’s arm.

“What did you do to her?” Jack demanded.

Owen knew even before Copley answered the question.

“She's survived the larval stage, the only subject ever to do so. It’s fascinating. Turns out these bugs practice sibling cannibalism. Only the strongest individual is left now. God knows what’s going to happen next.”  He sounded downright gleeful.

Before Owen could even react, Tom had Copley by the throat and was slamming the man against the wall. “That’s my girlfriend you’re so happy about killing,” he growled, shaking Copley like a dog with a bone. 

“Tom!” the medic shouted, “I need your help here.” He gentled his voice.  “He’s not worth it, mate.”  Tom had done a lot of things as Owen’s partner during that Year, but cold-blooded murder hadn’t been one of them.  He needed to talk his friend down before he did something he regretted.

Not that he blamed Tom at all.  He would have been violent to anyone who would have hurt Diane. 

With a wordless sound filled with rage and pain, Tom released Copley and returned to Martha’s side.  Copley coughed a little at suddenly being able to breathe, rubbing his neck gingerly and giving Tom a glare that should have stripped paint but did nothing at all to the doctor.

“What do you need?” Tom asked, his words broken as he stared down at Martha’s twitching body.  She was unconscious but in obvious pain.

“Talk to her,” Owen suggested, not really knowing what to do.  “She’ll hear you.  She’s gonna need your support to keep fighting this.”

And she was fighting, that much was obvious.  Every physical symptom she was manifesting pointed toward infection, and her body was doing whatever it took to get rid of it. 

Tom carefully released the strap that was holding Martha’s arm down to the table, and he clasped her hand in his.  “C’mon sweetheart,” he urged.  “You can do this.”

“Owen,” Jack said, panicked and trying to hide it, “there has to be something you can do.”

There wasn’t, though.  Owen already was well aware of that fact.  Being injected with Reset was a death sentence.

All they could do was stand there and wait for the end.

It wasn’t fair.  After everything Martha had survived, to be killed by an alien parasite…it wasn’t right.  She and Tom hadn’t had nearly enough time together.  Glancing down for any sort of clue, his eyes landed on the singularity scalpel, peeking through the open top of his kit like an accusation.

Why he’d even included it Owen didn’t know.  He couldn’t use it; he’d tried, and he hadn’t been able to figure it out even though he’d been certain of its function.  Intellectually he understood that he really didn’t know what he was doing with it, but emotionally…

He glanced at Tom, distraught at the very notion of losing the woman he loved.  Owen felt completely helpless and it wasn’t a feeling he particularly enjoyed.

He heard Jack acknowledge something over the comms.  “This place is a torture chamber,” he snarled at Copley.

Copley, however, didn’t seem at all afraid of Jack.  “I don’t need to debate medical ethics with you!”

“You abused the Mayflies! You turned them into parasites!”

“We didn't understand how the Mayflies reproduced. We tried to limit the damage.”

“By murdering people?” Jack scoffed.

“They were going to die anyway. We're on the edge of the greatest discovery in history. It’s going to be worth a few sacrifices! You must understand that, Jack, you're involved in alien research!”

“Not like this!” Jack denied.

Owen knew it wasn’t going to do them a damned bit of good arguing with Copley.  The bastard thought he was in the right, and nothing Jack said would matter.  Copley was one of those ‘ends justifies the means’ sort of people, and they could never be reasoned with.

He looked down once more at the singularity scalpel, and had to admit that there were times when he was, as well.  Jack was also like that, but Owen had learned those were times when his boss was right.  That Jack had knowledge that Owen could possibly never possess. 

Still, Copley was taking that to an extreme just for his own glory.  He really believed that killing people would get him to his goal; that torturing and mutilating innocent aliens all in the name of advancing the human race was a good thing.  It didn’t matter than he’d become a monster in the quest for what he considered the betterment of humankind, and in that he could not ever be forgiven. 

There should have been another way.  And, if Copley had been any sort of man with proper emotions, he would have found it.

“I’m closing the place down,” Jack said.

“In your dreams,” Copley answered, supremely confident. “This is a state of the art, official facility.”

Owen looked up from Martha’s deteriorating condition just in time to catch Jack’s shark-like smile.  “Oh, I'm not going to do it by sending a memo. We're in control of your IT systems. As we speak, we're crashing your data banks, wiping your records.”

“That’s cyber-terrorism!” That confidence had changed swiftly to outrage.

“And that's just for starters,” Jack went on. “We're going to trip the systems of your fire, radiation and biohazard safety networks. The power will cut, sprinklers will be activated, and a large part of this facility will be sealed and flooded with inert gases.  It’s over, Copley.”

Martha didn’t have much longer.  Owen really didn’t have much of a choice at this point…no matter what he tried, they were going to lose her.

He grabbed the scalpel.

“The aliens will die!”

“They’re dying anyway.  At least we can put them out of their misery.”

That made Owen think of the space whale, somewhere safe and swimming the oceans.  They’d been able to save it, but if the aliens here at the Pharm were that far gone…then yeah, it would be a mercy killing. 

It broke Owen’s heart even as he was calibrating the scalpel to use on Martha.

“Do you know what you’re doing with that thing?” Tom hissed.

“It’s this or stand by and wait for Martha to die.”  Owen didn’t want to put it so baldly, but he wasn’t going to do this without Tom understanding the alternative.

This was a case of, ‘damned if you do; damned if you don’t’.

“For God’s sake!  We’re on the same side!” Copley was shouting.

“No. Combating hostile aliens is one thing, but this is slavery, exploitation…a war crime! And the Shadow Proclamation will make sure you get what’s coming to you,” Jack retorted.

Owen knew it was a bluff.  They had no real agreement with the Shadow Proclamation.  Still, it was worth it if it scared the shit out of Copley for what he’d done.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Somehow Jack had come up behind Owen, and his demand made the medic jump.  His boss had been concentrating on Copley that he’d missed Owen messing with the scalpel.

“It’s the only chance she has.” Owen argued as he kept fiddling with the adjustments.  He had to get it just right…  “I think I know how it works.”

“You'd better be sure because it's never worked before!”

The Mayfly within Martha appeared on the scanner even as Owen could see the distended skin on Martha’s abdomen flexing as the alien parasite moved.  He had to swallow down bile at the sight.

The machines began to go haywire.  Tom was clutching Martha’s hand as if he was her lifeline.  “We’re losing her!” he cried.

Owen couldn’t let him or Jack distract him.  He had one chance to get this right, or else Martha was a goner.

No pressure, then.

“Owen!’ Jack shouted even as the medic was activating the singularity scalpel, its distinct hum nearly drowning him out.

He didn’t even have time to pray for success before the Mayfly on the scanner flared once, and then vanished.

In response, Martha jerked spasmodically, the only thing holding on the table were the straps at on her legs and one arm. 

The heart monitor flatlined.

_No no no no…_ Owen’s mind jibbered in denial.  It had to have worked!  The Mayfly was gone!  This wasn’t happening!

But then, the monitor began reacting, and Martha coughed raggedly, her head shaking as if she was trying to clear away the cobwebs.

Owen sighed with relief. Oh bloody hell, it worked!

Tom let out a sob, clutching her hand as if he was never letting it go.  Jack’s laugh was more shock than joy. 

“Let’s get her out of here,” he said, undoing the straps on Martha’s legs.

Owen released her other arm, and then put his things back in the bag.  He patted the scalpel, not bothering to hide the smile he gave it.

“Where’s Copley?” Tom demanded as he helped Martha to her feet.

Owen glanced around, and the mother fucker was nowhere to be found.

“He can’t go far,” Jack assured him.  “The place is locked down tight.  We’ll get him.”

Between them Owen and Tom managed to get Martha standing.  Jack going before them, they half lifted her, her feet barely touching the ground as they made their way out.  They were nearly at the front when alarms began to sound, and suddenly they weren’t alone; guards and employees were evacuating the building, not paying any attention to them at all in their haste to get out.

“That’ll be Toshiko tripping every alarm in this place,” Jack reassured them.  “She’s going to bring everything down around Copley and his ilk.”

“What about them?” Owen asked, tightening his grip on Martha’s waste.  “We don’t have the resources to hold them all.”

“Let me handle that.”  Martha’s voice was weak, but determined.  “I’ll get Colonel Mace to track them down using the employment records Tosh is sure to have downloaded.”

That was good.  No one was going to get away with this shit ever again.

“Now,” he said, “I’m prescribing you a couple of days of rest, preferably with your boyfriend looking after you.”

Tom chuckled in relief.  “I can do that.”

“You better!” Martha answered.

They broke out into the night, and Owen breathed deeply for perhaps the first time since they’d entered the compound to rescue Martha.  There were other people milling around, most of them in the grey sweaters that announced they were security for the Pharm or in the white lab coats of the researchers.  He trusted Jack and Martha to take care of them, and not to let them get away. 

The rest of the team were trotting out from the drive leading to the outbuildings.  Patrick had Copley’s assistant at gun point, and he looked like he really wanted to shoot.  Rhys was covering Toshiko, who was busy on her laptop, cradling it in one arm as her free hand tapped away at the keyboard.  Ianto came last, his own gun put away, his face pale and haggard.  Owen would check on him later, but suspected it was more emotional upset than any sort of injury.  If Dragon Boy had been hurt, Jack would have been all over Copley like white on rice.

A voice overhead was warning that the facility was in shutdown and to evacuate.  Toshiko’s work of course.  Owen was quite proud of her intelligence, even if he really never told her.  There were times when he’d wished he’d been nicer to her, but he hoped he’d made up for being such a twat to her in the meantime.

Patrick pushed their prisoner up against Billy Davis’ SUV and proceeded to frisk her roughly.  Finding nothing on her, he cuffed her and had her slide down the side of the vehicle to rest against the tire until they could get her transported to the Hub, and then on to UNIT for permanent incarceration.

Owen led Martha and Tom over to the borrowed vehicle just in time to hear Jack on the comms asking Deborah to bring their own SUV to pick them up.  Their PA had been on standby, waiting for word to meet them after things were done…or to contact UNIT in case they failed.  Luckily for them, it had all turned out for the good…

And of course, the moment that thought crossed his mind…

“Did you really think I was going to let you just walk away?” Copley asked. “You've ruined everything I've worked for!”

He was standing in front of the SUV, gun in hand and pointing at Martha.  His face was clammy and he looked pale, but his hand was steady as a rock as he threatened Martha.

Of course he’d want to get revenge on her.  She’d been the one to go undercover, and to beat him at his own game.  And if he could kill one person before he was taken down, it made sense it was her.

Owen didn’t even think twice.

He put himself between Martha and the gun, letting Tom take all of her weight as he tried to get Copley to focus on him, and not his injured friend.

“Now, let’s not be stupid,” Owen said calmly, holding his hands out in front of him.  In the corner of his eye he could see Jack moving to cover, and he just knew Patrick was doing the same somewhere behind him.  He didn’t know about his other teammates, but he could trust them to have his back.

There was a tingling, an air of expectation, as Copley stood there, his gun raised and Owen defenceless against it.  If he had to go, this was the way he wanted it: protecting his friends. It was all Owen could ever hope for, and as long as Tom and Martha got a happy ending he was fine with it.  As for Diane…he was certain she’d understand.  He’d let her know how important Torchwood was for him, and that was the reason he’d never leave and join her in Alaska. 

And there was a roar, so loud it must have been heard for miles around.  Copley’s eyes went large in his head, and his neck bent as his gaze travelled upward.  Owen didn’t even need to ask what he was seeing.

Dragon Boy had come out to play.

Owen couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.  He knew he could trust his team…hell, he should have expected this. 

He really enjoyed it when this sort of shit happened.

“You see,” Jack said smugly.  “Torchwood doesn’t experiment on innocent creatures…it works with them!”

Copley didn’t say anything.  He fired several shots at the really pissed off dragon looming over them all.  Owen wanted to watch, but he still had Martha and Tom to look after, so all he saw was a green-scaled arm take a swipe at Copley, sending the man flying across the gravel driveway to land in a heap.

The really vicious part of Owen Harper hoped the bastard was dead.

“Is everyone alright?” the dragon’s rough, Welsh accented voice rumbled into the night.

“We’re fine, Dragon Boy,” Owen snarked before anyone else could speak up.  “But I’d really like to get the fuck out of here, if it’s okay with everyone else. It’s been a hell of a day and I’d like to go to bed, if that’s okay.

He was answered with a rich, deep laugh that told Owen that everything was just fine in his world once more. 

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the heck, I'll go ahead and get the last chapter up today. Next will be "Eighth Annual Torchwood Anniversary Pub Crawl", which should be posted in a couple of days.

 

**_4 October 2008_ **

****

It was a couple of days before Martha felt like even getting out of bed.

Luckily, the guest room at Ianto’s converted Victorian was very comfortable indeed.

Everyone had pretty much left her and Tom alone for the most part.  Except for a certain hovering dragon, that was.  Ianto was at his best when he had someone to take care of, and Martha was much appreciative.  Her body ached in places it shouldn’t and it felt incredibly decadent to be waited on hand and foot.

Owen had also stopped by, wanting to check her out medically.  He did share with her that he hadn’t been able to save Elin; that for some reason the singularity scalpel hadn’t worked for the thousands of Mayfly larvae that had been swimming through the young woman’s body.  He’d been upset by that, and she couldn’t blame him.  It would have been nice to have been able to save the young woman.

Her mother had called several times, but Martha hadn’t said anything about almost dying. She loved her Mum dearly. But Francine would have been on the next train to Cardiff and Martha didn’t want her hovering.  Her mother’s version was somewhat different than Ianto’s; at least the dragon could take the hint when he was being overbearing.

Thank God Tom wasn’t prone to it.  He was perfectly fine leaving her alone at times, although he made up for it by being a cuddling octopus in bed at night.  Martha had never known she’d liked cuddling until she’d met Tom.

On the second day of staying at Jack and Ianto’s Martha finally felt like moving.  The pain had settled down into a dull ache that Owen claimed would go away once her body healed from being used as an alien incubator, and quite honestly she was getting bored.  Jack had informed her that they’d sent on a report to Colonel Mace, who’d authorised a week off before she had to report back to UNIT HQ in London.  A part of her was dreading it, but at the same time she was ready to get back to work.  She was sure that reports have been multiplying on her desk during her absence.

But Ianto cornered her when both Jack and Tom were gone, and she had a feeling about what he wanted to talk to her about.

Sure enough, his first question was, “Are you happy with UNIT?”

That was a loaded question, wasn’t it?  She sighed, trying to get her thoughts into order before answering.  “On the whole, yes.  I mean, there are people there who are jealous that a civilian has come in and been promoted further than them, but isn’t that the way any job is?  I can deal with it.”

“You shouldn’t _have_ to deal with it,” her dragon argued.  “You should be appreciated for the intelligent, brave woman you are.”

“Well, in a perfect world…” she shook her head, smiling.  “I’m not going to lie and say it’s easy, because it’s not.  And I do wish I’d come to you or Jack and asked for a job first.  But you know why I didn’t.”

“Tom says Francine has been just a bit overbearing.”

Martha shrugged.  “It’s the way she is.  I’ve practically moved in with Tom anyway, so it’s not like I have to deal with it all the time.”  It made her feel slightly guilty about running away from home, so to speak, but she had Tom and he understood.  Although she was going to have to have a talk with him about worrying Dragon about her.  Ianto had too many other things to be concerned about, and Martha didn’t want to add to that burden.

“You know you and Tom can come here anytime,” Ianto pointed out, sitting on the side of the bed where she was currently reclining. 

“I know, and believe me if things get bad we’ll be on the first train out of London.  But I’m perfectly content to stick with UNIT for the time being.  There are good people there, and they more than outweigh the bad.” She chuckled.  “The only reason Tom hears about them all the time is because they’re quite vocal.  I might have to stop bitching at him and talk up the good ones so he knows I’m not surrounded by idiots.”

“Colonel Mace does speak very highly of you.”

“He’s a good man.  I do wish he’d quit promoting me, though.  I’d kinda like to get used to a job before I get moved to another one!”

Her dragon laughed along with her, and that was when she knew that everything would be just fine. 

“You have a really good team here,” she told him.  “You should be proud of them.”

The sweet smile on Ianto’s face made Martha’s heart melt.  “Oh we are.  They’re family, Martha…like you and Tom. And you can talk to me or Jack anytime you need to.  We’ll always come if you need us to.”

“I know that, and I love you both for it.”  She really did. As much as she hated that Year, it had brought her more friends than she could have wished for…even those who couldn’t remember it.

Her life might not have been perfect, but Martha was happy.  She had Tom, and her family; her Dragon and Jack and the rest of the Torchwood team.  Maybe someday she might leave UNIT, because despite being content with it on the whole there were times when she really wished she’d asked Jack and Ianto for a job first, but then she knew exactly where she’d go when she was ready. 

Right to the family she’s gained…the members of the End of the World Club.  And she and Tom would be welcomed with open arms.

Still, that day might never happen.  She had quite a career with UNIT and despite a few small-minded arses that made her life hell she would continue to do her job.  It was like being a part of something bigger, and she loved the discovery and newness of it all. It satisfied the adrenaline junkie in her.

But Cardiff would always be home…because that was where her Dragon was. 

And being the Nightingale to his Dragon was the one of the most important things to her.

 

 

_Fin_


End file.
